


Dog Days of Azkaban

by NAOA



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Angst, Animagus, Azkaban, Dementors, Escape, Gen, Innocence, Magic, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Misery, Patronus, Prison, Sanity, Sirius Black in Azkaban, Survival, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 33,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NAOA/pseuds/NAOA
Summary: Sirius Black's stay in Azkaban, following from the time of his arrest to his escape.
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I originally wrote this in 2012 and it was my first big fanfic. It's a little old now but I hope you guys enjoy it here! There are twenty-six chapters and I'll post a few a day until I get the whole thing up. Thanks for reading!

BOOM! All around him the street exploded. Sirius was knocked back off his feet. There was screaming but he didn't know where it was coming from. "Peter!" He screamed. "Peter!" He shot curses blindly into the thickness of the smoke. "Peter!" He roared. "Peter!" All around him there were sharp cracking sounds of people apparating. A jet of light knocked his wand flying. He yelled in surprise. Ministry wizards were baring down on him everywhere. "Peter!" He yelled, pointing at the cloud of smoke still rising from the street.

Two of the ministry wizards looked at each other and then back at him. "Stand down!" one of them shouted. He turned his head from one person to another, trying to understand why they had their wands on him. He laughed at their stupidity. "Not me you idiots, Peter!" One of the wizards hopped down into the smoking crater in the street. "There's no one down here!" He yelled. "No, hold on, oh crap! Oh God!" Sirius grinned. "I got him!" The wizard in the hole came back up, something wrapped in a handkerchief. "You got him?" He asked looking horrified. "You killed him." He held out the handkerchief in disgust and Sirius looked at the cause of his revulsion. A finger. He gasped. "No. . ." It was too much. Peter was too much of a coward. He broke out laughing, loud hysterical laughter and he shook as he did so. It was far too much. Two of the wizards grabbed him and started to lead him away and he went limp, shaking slightly.

They dragged him away from muggle eyes into an alley and disapparated. Sirius was dragged along. He felt himself crash to a spinning stop. The smell of the sea hit him and he looked around, confused. Looming up before him was a tall black pillar No, not a pillar, a tower. An awful, dark, evil looking tower. He began to convulse, the big black wall surrounding the tower had a big black gate set into it and above that gate, in silver lettering were the words Azkaban Prison. He began to stumble backwards. "No!" He gasped. "No, let me go! No, don't do this! I don't belong there." He could see dementors swooping around the outside. He'd never really been close to one before. He felt his stomach twist inside of him. "No!"

The gates opened and the ministry wizards began to drag him towards them. He went limp again, unable to put up a fight, the crippling depression that emanated from the building could be felt even before they crossed though the gate. Two of the wizards conjured patronuses and then his feet crossed the threshold of the gate and he was inside the walls. He looked up despairingly at the arching gate and the silver lettering and then forward at the big, black tower. Fear gripped him but he didn't know how to show it and so he remained motionless, allowing himself to be guided forward. He gave himself one last look back at the gate and silver letters before being taken inside. The heavy black doors shut silently behind him and somehow that was even worse than if hey had slammed.

He tripped over his feet a few times, trying to get a look around. He was in a long, dark hall dotted with heavy metal doors and light by dim torches. He looked from door to door wondering what was behind them and yet hoping he would never find out. The ministry wizards did not look at him and the way they completely ignored him was grating. "Where are we going?" He tried to ask but they continued to ignore him. His eyes found a door up ahead with a black X painted on it. It was the first marked door he'd seen and he wondered what was behind it. To his surprise they steered him towards it.

Inside a man in gray robes was seated at an old wooden desk, the kind teachers had. He looked up and motioned for the men to seat Sirius in a wooden chair in front of the the desk. He was forced into the chair and shivered. Somehow the room was even colder than the hall, even with the man's patronous adding a third to the mix. The man looked him over distastefully. "Mr. Sirius Black," He said and although a few moments ago Sirius would not have believed it possible, the room got even colder. "You have been charged with the deaths of twelve innocent muggles, a wizard and a most serious breech of magical secrecy. You are convicted of being a Death Eater and are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment."

Sirius stared at him, unable to believe it. "But. . ." He stammered, he somehow felt small and weak, made worse by the man's cold eyes. "Trial?" He couldn't even put it into a proper sentence.

The man sneered. "I hardly think that's necessary. You will be interned immediately. Now, turn out your pockets." But he couldn't bring himself to move. Two of the wizards that had accompanied him in picked him up under his arms and tore away his jacket. They turned out the pockets spilling an assortment of junk he didn't care about on the desk, including a clipping from a magazine detailing a new piece for his motorcycle he'd been thinking of buying, oh well that didn't matter now, Hagrid had his bike. He looked over the junk uncaringly and met eyes with the man in gray who looked disgusted. The man flicked over a few items, knocking a folded up card a girl had given him and a couple rubber bands away from a few stray matches. "We'll hold on to these, in the meantime you'll be supplied with a uniform." Sirius looked up at the ministry wizards and then at the gray man whom he found himself hating. "What about my clothes?" He asked.

"They'll be held on to along with these things." Sirius frowned, looking around him again. He had grown used to the small room and now feared leaving it. The man in gray handed him a stack of gray prison robes and glared at him. "Take him away and make him change. Then take him to his cell."

As he was being pushed out the door the gray man spoke once more. "How old are you, Mr. Black?" He asked. Sirius was puzzled. "Twenty-two." The man's face didn't change but his eyes looked even colder. "Twenty-two? Looks like you've got quite long stay."

Sirius couldn't decide if he was being taunted or not but even if he was he didn't have a chance to do anything about it. He was shoved back out into the dark hall and dragged down it to another room where they made him change. He hugged his clothes to his chest, refusing to hand them over but they were ripped from him. He tried to punch one of the wizards but was rebuked by a blast of light to his chest. He coughed and stumbled back, glaring at the wizards.

They lead him down the hall and up some stares to the very top floor. Sirius stumbled and tripped over the stares, dreading the end of their journey for the higher they went the worse everything looked. He could hear yelling from behind some doors and unnatural silence from others. This alone made him panic worse than all before. Only this time he was beyond a physical reaction. His bare feet had gone numb on the cold stone floor. He was terrified as they dragged him along. He gave up struggling and went limp.

They stopped outside a heavy steel door. Maybe it was iron, he didn't know. It was ugly, bland and gray. It made him think of the man down below who had taken his things. The man not holding him unlocked it and the door swung open. It was a tiny, filthy cell. He couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life in there. He looked up at his captors helplessly before being thrown in. The door slammed, locking him in. He looked around and dragged himself onto the metal bed in the corner. It was bolted to the floor, proving just how little control he had over his situation. He crawled up into the corner of it, furthest away from the door. He put his head in his hands and instead of focusing on his current predicament he thought of Lily and James. Of that filthy rat Peter and of all the people who didn't know the truth. Of Remus who he knew could never believe him a murderer. He held on to the hope that Remus would realize the truth and get him out. He felt alone and angry at his own helplessness. He clenched his fists, hurting himself but not caring. "Peter. . ." He whispered. And then he screamed. He screamed as loudly as he could, hoping the guards would hear and hoping they would hate it. His screams were echoed by those of other prisoners down the hall and each time he ran out of breath he renewed and screamed again until he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius had no trouble remembering where he was when he awoke in the morning. The dampness of the cell and the coldness of the air had kept hold of him all night. His throat hurt from screaming and he then regretted doing so. Without the presence of the patrounuses he could fully feel the dementor's evil effects. He curled up and could only think of James and Lily. He could only think of how awful the place was even after only one night and of how unfair it was that he should be here when he was innocent. And then he said it aloud. "I'm Innocent." He whispered.

There was a bang on his cell door and a bowl of food was thrown inside. He hopped off the bed and ran to it but stopped. It was filthy rotting garbage. He couldn't eat that trash. He pushed it away and glared at the door. Outside he could hear the shrieks and yells of others, apparently thrilled with breakfast. Many of these people he knew had only recently been arrested, did it take so little to dehumanize them? How long would it take for him to be reduced to a screaming, clawing animal that ate the filth that sufficed as food with joy. How long before he too screamed at night and yelled threats and curses at the guards when he had no wand to carry them out? How long before he went mad. He covered his ears and sank deeper into his despairing thoughts. He saw the Potter's house in ruins and knew they were dead. He thought of little Harry and of how hard it had been to hand him over to Hagrid. He pulled at his hair and could see Peter's triumphant face right before he'd blown up the street.

There were footsteps outside the door which he thought was odd, dementors did not have feet. His door opened and he looked up. It was the wizard in gray. He glared at Sirius who stared back wide eyed. "Mr. Black I came to inform you that your papers have been formally filed and your sentence is now official." Sirius looked up at him, not altogether understanding. He looked the man over, there was enough light coming from his small window now for him to get a good look. The man in gray looked down at the bowl he'd thrown across the room and made a face. "Why haven't you eaten?"

The man's patronus made Sirius feel stronger. "How cold I eat that crap?" He asked. "It's disgusting." He was happy with this answer, Azkaban had not taken his defiance yet. He glared at the man, sizing him up. Not much point to, but he couldn't help thinking that even if it wasn't a duel, in a fist fight he could have beaten him. He wanted so badly to at the moment. He wanted the man to give him some look other than disdain. He wanted to hit him but he eyed the wand in the man's hand and thought the better of it.

The man in Gray frowned. "Then I suppose you won't be eating dinner either?" Sirius shook his head. "I'll inform the guards. You'll learn that defiance is a trait not celebrated here." The man closed the door and was gone. Sirius kicked the bed furiously. What did that even mean? "Your papers have been formally filed and your sentence is now official." Did it mean that the night before he had not yet been charged and they went ahead and took his things, they went ahead and locked him up? The screams from the cell next door were getting especially bad and he wished they would shut up. "Oi!" He yelled. "Shut up!" If anything the screaming grew louder. He ran a hand through his hair which now was beginning to turn greasy. He sighed.

The cell door next the him was opened and there was a yelp from inside and the yelling stopped. He listened carefully but could hear nothing. Perhaps one of the wizard guards had gotten as sick of it as he had or maybe the dementors? Could dementors get sick of things? He paced the floor, dark thoughts of his friends crossing his mind. A consuming feeling of loss and anguish coming over him. Without knowing the time he guessed that people all across the wizarding world were reading their newspapers and being fed lies about him. In a few days time no one would know he truth. Nobody except him and Peter.

His thoughts turned to Peter again and he turned to anger. Peter was a lying, evil traitor. He deserved a death worse than anything Sirius could imagine. Never before had his rat transformation been as fitting as it seemed now. He punched the stone wall and then regretted it. His hand flared up in pain and he cursed. Hours passed in this restless way until night came and dinner came to the others but not to him, not that it mattered, he would not have eaten it anyway. He lay back on the bed and began to drift, not to sleep but into his thoughts. In a matter of minutes his mind would go from crippling depression to raging anger and then to almost hysterical laughter. In any other place it would have taken much longer for him to devolve into this state but then, maybe that was the power of the dementors.

Three more days passed and in that time he had come to the conclusion that he would have to eat the filth they called food, the only problem was that the guards were no longer bringing it to him. He lay on his bed, his stomach growling and causing him great flashes of pain. Some times it hurt to lay flat and he had to roll to his side and hug himself. He tried telling the dementors outside his door that he wanted food but they ignored him. He tried yelling but every time he did he started up a volley of screaming from the others and it never got the job done.

He sighed, his empty stomach causing him to curl up again.

It took three more days for the man in gray to return. He gave Sirius a sanctimonious look of victory. Sirius was defeated and lay on his bed, curled up, he did his best to glare at him but knew it came across weak. "So, the guards tell me you've been asking for food. Does that mean that you're done with this silly stunt?" Silly stunt? He could have hit him.

"S'not silly." He grunted. The man in gray looked down at him, feigning sympathy. "You've been here a week now, surely you've learned that defiance is not tolerated. I wrote it off originally that your need to act out was because of your young age but perhaps you're just a hard learner." Sirius bared his teeth, sitting up. "I learn fine but not when I'm being taught by someone like you." The man frowned. "Careful. I don't have to give you food. I could let you die and I doubt anyone in the wizarding world would be sad. I'd probably be given a promotion."

The threat did not sound empty and Sirius shut his mouth. There was a pause and then the man in Gray left, he stopped before shutting the door. "You'll get dinner tonight." The door slammed shut and he was alone again, too tired to do anything but lie there angrily.

That evening when dinner did come he ignored the smell and taste and swallowed as much as he could. He almost puked but kept it down. He lay back on his bed, not wanting to move much and dropped into the ever unpleasant dreams that were the only ones allowed.

The next day he did the same, ate his food without complaining and then stared miserably out the window at the dark, dull sky. On a clear day he could almost see down to the rocks below but today was not one of those days. Today, like most days was dark and cloudy with cold wind and a heavy chill. He tucked his now boney feet underneath him and tried to stay warm. It wasn't easy. He wondered if Remus had believed the lies the newspapers sad. It would hurt if he did but he liked to think that his friend was out there, fighting for him, that thought was a happy one the dementors had yet to steal. He also thought about his parents reactions to his imprisonment. It was sure to be almost comical, perhaps his mother had cried teas of joy at the news her son was a death eater and had killed a load of muggles. But more than likely she had known better and was sitting at home listing all the reasons he belonged in Azkaban. Maybe his father had shaken his head, shrugged and muttered about how this at least made him look like less of a blood traitor. But the thought that made him both happiest and saddest was really any thought about Harry. Little Harry would grow up not knowing his parents but also without the fear of Voldemort. He would be a hero to the wizarding world and yet never know the truth.

Whenever human guards passed by and happened to be talking about Harry, Sirius would prick up his ears, he loved any chance to hear of his Godson. They always spoke of how amazing his survival was and of how things were getting better because of him and of how much of a hero the little baby was. Sirius took pride in knowing that convicted murderer or not, he knew Harry personally. He wished he could ask questions and learn what was going on in the wold but even when he tried he was ignored.


	3. Chapter 3

It came as a rather big surprise when one morning after he had eaten, his cell door opened and a wizard told him to follow him out. His hands were cuffed and he was lead down the hall. Several other cells were open and he could see into them. From the looks of it, they were all being inspected but the prisoners were not in them. "Where are we going?" he asked, trying to be pleasant. It was hard work when he wanted nothing more than to spit at the stuck up prick leading him down the hall.

The wizard looked at him briefly. "Yard. You get two hours in the yard. We'll be calling inmates in periodically for bathroom privileges. Make good time of your fresh air." Sirius looked around hopefully, a bad smell came from several of the cells. "Ugh, what is that?" He asked.

The Wizard gave him an odd look. "Some of he prisoners round the bend don't think using the pot is a good idea. We'll clean the cells out too. Look for contraband. If we find any you'll have to talk to the warden."

He nodded, still excited at the prospect of going outside. But then something caught his eye. A closed cell with the name Bellatrix Lestrange written on a card outside. He stopped and stared at it. "She's not going out, is she?" He asked. The wizards gave the door a brief glance. "No, women go out tomorrow. You know her?"

"Yeah, cousin."

"Ew."

Sirius grinned, he was rather pleased to meet some one with the same attitude towards his cousin as he had. "Don't need to tell me that." There was a noise from inside. "Who's out there?!" A shrill voice yelled. "I can hear you!" There was breathing from right behind the door. "Who?!"

"Let's go." The wizard said, moving him along. Sirius looked back at the door, he could hear his cousin's shrieking reaching inhuman pitches. He shook his head. She was bad before and he didn't want to think how much worse Azkaban had made her.

The wizard stopped before letting him outside. "Coat." He grunted, steering him into a small room. "You're entitled to an over coat before you go out." He tossed him a gray one. Was everything in this place gray? He let himself be directed back out to the door and into the court yard. It wasn't a real court yard. It was the walls around the tower. Several other men stood around, some standing still, looking off into pace and muttering to each other and others in small groups, talking quietly. He looked around and spotter several people he knew by sight, none of them people he wanted to talk to. He took off walking around the building.

His feet were still bare but he had grown used to it and it no longer bothered him, although the rocks were plenty sharp and the only grass that grew was a rough, rock dwelling type. There also didn't seem to be any animals, no birds or even bugs. He suspected the dementors had something to do with it. And if he was a bird, he certainly wouldn't be flying around Azkaban. He looked up at he high walls. He saw more of the ocean when he was in his cell than he could now. He sighed and picked up a rock. He threw it against the wall. Then he threw another over the wall and then another. But then he stopped and sat down. He watched the others. A few of them were looking at him and talking one man was trying to convince the wall that the Dark Lord wasn't really gone and then others were still minding their own business.

He played with a small rock between his fingers and stared wistfully around. Occasionally a wizard wold come to door and call out a name, the dementors would find the person and then lead them inside whence they would be replaced by two more dementors. He turned to the wall behind him and rubbed the rock against it, leaving a white streak. He made a few lines and then wrote "I hate this place." In chalk. First rain would wash it away but at least his message was clear. He pocketed the rock and a few more like it, hiding them in various pockets and open seams in his coat. He was sure they weren't allowed.

He then played with the grass, braiding strands and then throwing them away. No point to it really, but it was better than talking to the likes of death eater scum that surrounded him. He brushed his hair back. It was awfully greasy and tangled, that bothered him, he always took such good care of his hair. After all, when you were as handsome as he you didn't let things like that go. He tried to comb it out with his fingers but it was tough work and he gave up.

A dementor swooped by on it's way to round up another prisoner who's name had been called, leaving him with an icy chill that had nothing to do with the ocean. His stomach sank. He thought of his friends again. The dementors always made him feel guilty. Along with everything else, they brought a crushing sense of guilt. He really did blame himself for Lily and James' deaths and the dementors always saw fit to remind him of that. He put his head in his hands and sighed, thinking of how wrong everything was.

"BLACK, SIRIUS!" His head popped up. The wizard calling names was back. He hopped up before the dementors came, hoping to out run them but of coarse that was not possible. He slowed as their chill grew worse and then let them guide him, their eery, rattling breath making his skin crawl. The wizard at the door looked him over, it was not the one from before or the man in gray but he had the same distant, hard line look.

"This is your block's day for bathroom privileges." The man said. "That means you'll shower and be checked for lice." He turned heel and marched down the hall, Sirius following after. "In." The man gruned, stopping by a door. The dementors stopped outside and watched him go in. it was an ugly, white tiled bathroom with a stall for a toilet and three individual showers. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror opposite and although he was distraught by his hair, he was pleased to see that he was still good looking, he hadn't lost enough weight to mar his face yet, though he supposed it was only a matter of time. He brushed his hair back to get a better look but was shoved. "Clothes off and get in the shower." The man said. "We have people waiting."

He looked around, he was the only prisoner there, no doubt they feared to get too many together. He slowly took off the coat and laid it on the sink, still watching himself in the mirror. Not bad, he decided once he'd lost the shirt. He still had some good muscle mass, less maybe but still good. He admired himself for a minute before the man cleared his throat. He lost the pants and gave the men watching a raised eyebrow. "Should have sold tickets if I'd known I was gonna be this popular." He muttered, intentionally loud enough for them to hear. One of them men growled. "Just get in." He muttered. And for the first time in a week Sirius smiled. No dementors to bring him down only four lovely patronouses to bring him up. He sauntered cross to he shower, enjoying the looks of aggravation on the wizards' faces and turned the water on, taking in it's heat. It felt blissfully good.

He was eager to restore his hair to it's natural shiny state of elegance. Unfortunately the wizards standing watch were not so patient. They kept tapping their fingers angrily before one of them flicked his wand. Without warning the water became scolding hot and he jumped back, yelling. His skin was turning an angry red color. He glared at them. The one who had burnt him flicked his wand again and the water turned off. "I wasn't done." Sirius snapped.

They shrugged. "Too bad. You shouldn't have wasted so much time looking in the mirror." The one who'd burnt him said, throwing a towel at him. "Hurry up and dry off, you're holding things up." He toweled dry and returned to his scuzzy prison robes. "What was the point," He wondered. "Bathing only to return to the same filthy clothing?" He had no sooner pulled his shirt on over his head when he was forced onto a stool and someone viciously began thumbing over his scalp. Each time he tried to raise his head it was forced down again.

"He's clean." One of the men grunted, shoving him off the stool and forcing him towards the door. "Take him back outside." He was directed at wand point back through the hallways and outside again. "Dolohov, Antonin!" The wizard yelled, pushing him out of the way. Sirius watched Dolohov stomp past him with distaste before shoving his hands deep into his pockets and setting off for a walk around the tower again. He kept his hand tightly around one of he rocks fearing to loose it.

A dementor swooped past him causing him to shiver and draw up. It paused, seemingly enjoying the effect it was having. It was quite horrible and it made the previous glow of warmth and defiance ebb away. He found himself unable to raise his head or turn away or do anything at all. A coldness was spreading inside of his chest and it continued to grow even after the dementor had left. He stood stock still, not moving. He no longer had the desire to walk.

Eventually a wizard came and guided him back to his cell. His lovely dinner was waiting for him. He ate it without complaining and lay back on his bed, consumed by he dark thoughts the dementors brought.


	4. Chapter 4

Days passed without anything new and Sirius came to believe that one of Azkaban's tortures was monotony. Meals came at the same time, the wizard guards' rounds all came at the same times. He'd learned to tell when they were getting close and always tried to hear what the were talking about. It was never anything too important. He'd now recognized several distinct voices and for those guards he'd not learned names, he'd make ones up for them.

A perhaps less pleasant accomplishment was that he'd become able to pick out his cousin's screaming among all the others. He hadn't thought it possible for someone to scream as much as she did. Mostly it was about "The Dark Lord" and how everyone was a "Mudblood-loving traior". Occasionally she'd come up with something new and that would be the going repetition for a while but it all sort of blended together in the end and really it was all the same. She wasn't that creative.

He'd drawn a bit on the cell walls with he rocks he'd taken from the yard. Mostly scribbles and bits of things he wanted to remember, he didn't really have anything important to write. The man in gray had not been back to visit and with the lack of human interaction he was finding it increasingly difficult not to start talking to himself. Sometimes he'd sink into it without realizing. Telling himself stories always helped. He'd get a laugh out of remembering some old prank he'd pulled in school and he knew that even that brief happiness irritated the dementors. But it was always short lived and he found himself more and more having trouble remembering those good times. Sometime he'd have to remind himself he was innocent just to keep from accepting his situation. He found blaming things on the man in gray was a nice way to relieve stress.

He scratched at the chipping paint of his bed frame. Ugly, dull gray color flaked off to reveal another boring, ugly shade of gray. Azkaban was like a rainbow of gray. Maybe it was intentional or maybe the dementors had just sucked all the color out of the place like they did happiness out of people.

His nails were breaking now, he knew the food he was getting wasn't nutritious enough. There was dirt caked underneath them too and he could only imagine what the rest of him looked like. His hair too was longer, he'd always kept it long, fashionably so but this wasn't exactly his style. He supposed it didn't really matter anymore because there was no one there to impress. The dementors certainty were not going to be wowed by his hair.

At night his dreams were increasingly worse. At first they had been a usual assortment of nightmares but now they were taking shape. He was remembering horrid things, Lily and James' deaths seemed always present on his mind and the thought of Peter being free and unpunished while he sat rotting his life away drove him over the edge. He hadn't been driven to screaming yet but he was damn close whenever he though of Peter, And his disappointment towards Remus whom he had counted a pone to at least attempt a visit was crushing. He liked to think that his friend was trying to see him and the man in gray was preventing it.

Maybe it was unfair, how much blame he placed on the man but he never gave it much thought and even if he had, he was too angry to change his opinion.

The weather was colder now too and he was glad of his coat even if it didn't keep out the damp and barely put a muffle on the chill.

One day when a wizard came to collect his dinner bowl, he managed to talk his way into getting the man's newspaper. A great achievement in it's self, he thought, looking the paper over. The date showed that less days had passed than he'd originally thought and also that it was close to Christmas. "I won't be getting any presents in here." He thought bitterly, skimming over the front page. More death eater arrests and trials. "Oh, now their giving trials." He read a column over a new regulation for Quittage players. He missed Quittage. He sighed and set the paper aside for later, as much as he might want to it was best not to read the whole thing at once.

And so more days passes, he tried to keep track, using the paper as a guide. He thought about all the things he was missing in the outside world and he didn't know if it was the paper making him think these things or the dementors.

Around what he presumed to be Christmas several wizards came to see him. They ordered him out of the cell and made him stand to the side. He heard banging from inside and tried to look in but was puled back. They were tearing up his cell. The mattress had been pulled up and they were looking in corners. To his displeasure the man in gray was with them. "Newspaper." He ordered. Sirius made a face. "I don't have a newspaper." He said.

"Don't lie. I already know you do. Accio paper." The paper shot from his coat pocket and into the man's hand. He looked it over briefly. "Put him back in."

Sirius was thrown back inside. His hands slapped the stone floor before he hit it and he rolled around in time to see the man in gray's cold eyes glaring down at him before the door closed. He cursed to himself, pulling up and straitening the bed. They had erased all of his markings from he walls. He sighed and sat back, feet tucked underneath him, waiting for warmth that did not come. He stared moodily out the window. He wasn't even that upset over the loss of the paper, only that it had been to that man.

He did not receive dinner that night. He guessed it was punishment but he told himself it would have been worse to have to at the food again.


	5. Chapter 5

He did not know exactly how long he had been in Azkaban. He was surprised at how the dementors had already reduced him to feeling nothing. He felt so empty and exhausted all of the time now. Whenever he had to go to the yard he perked up a little but that was beginning to fade too. The dementors were everywhere, there was no escape from their powers. He found himself more and more, staring listlessly out his window, consumed by dark thoughts.

The most exciting thing to happen to him was a run in with his cousin-in-law Rodolphus Lestrange in the yard which had not ended well for either of them, especially after he'd made the mistake of insulting Bellatrix.

With out magic Rodolphus had resorted to less conventional forms of fighting and tried to hit him. Sirius had been ready and hit back. It was exactly the charge he needed to knock him out of his stupor and he relished the excitement. Without magic Rodolphus was slow and clumsy, and Sirius found he had the upper hand. He was thrilled to be moving and thinking fast again and also to have an outlet for his anger. He could not hit Peter, he could not hit the man in gray and he definitely could not hit the dementors but he sure as hell could hit Rodolphus. And just to make sure the fight didn't end too quickly he threw in some well placed and hard hitting insults. Mostly about the loss of his precious Dark Lord and of how crazy his wife was.

This last one seemed to have a particularly strong effect on Roldophus. Sirius sneered, a feeling of superiority overtaking him when he saw the look of spluttering outrage on his cousin-in-law's face. He felt alive and triumphant again, feelings he had not felt for months. Even the punches Rodolphus managed to get in made him feel alive because he was feeling something instead of misery. He grinned and was about to deliver another combination of fist and insult when a blast of light hit him in the chest, sending him flying.

There was a thud and Rodolphus landed a few feet away. Sirius started to get up, not sure exactly what had happened but stopped just short of actually siting up. There a wand was pointing directly at his chest. He looked up into the eyes of an angry wizard guard. He swallowed.

He was hauled down several hallways to one he'd never been in before. His elation from the fight was quickly wearing off and he had the sudden urge to puke. He was roughly thrown to the floor of a dark room and had to scamper to look around. The man in gray was standing behind a desk looking furious.

Sirius swallowed and pulled himself into a chair. He man in gray moved to the door and began whispering to the wizard who'd brought him in. Sirius strained but could not hear them. He sat silently, feeling himself draw up and become cold. The door closed and the man returned to his desk. "Mr. Black." He said sharply. "Behavior such as you exhibited with Mr. Lestrange out in he yard is not permitted. You are aware that it was not appropriate, aren't you?" Sirius said nothing. "This only goes to further prove that you are not fit to be let loose in society." He paused, looking Sirius over for any hint of emotion. "We have had no other problems from you since your arrival three months ago, but should you start behaving like this now, the consequences will be very strict. As it is, I cannot let this go unpunished. You will be locked in one of the top tower cells for two weeks and after that we will evaluate whether you are ready to return to your regular cell." He looked over his gray framed glasses at him and Sirius felt a chill not unlike the one the dementors delivered. He shivered.

The man in gray cleared his throat and two men entered the room. Sirius found himself being picked up under his arms and forcibly removed from the chair. The hated man in gray swept on ahead and lead the way. He marched with an infuriating air of authority and under any other circumstances he would have ticked Sirius off beyond belief but as it was something about the mood made him stay silent.

The wizards around him were oddly stiff and silent and the way they ushered him on was as if they did not want to go on themselves. He could not think what could be so horrible that even armed wizards would fear it. He felt lost as they dragged him down the hall. He made an attempt to walk but was hurried on so quickly he was unable to get his feet steadied. They lead him up stares, flight after flight passed and the halls grew narrower and darker and things grew colder. He shivered and tried to see what was ahead of him but the darkness made it impossible. The man in gray seemed the only one unaffected by the chill, almost inhumanly so. He held his light want aloft and marched on without looking back even once.

They took a sharp turn upwards and just when Sirius began to grow sure that they could not go any higher they broke through into a small room with three cells lining the opposite wall. He couldn't think why they were so bad. They weren't as clean as his below and instead of a metal door there were bars. One of the wizards took a set of keys and unlocked the cell furthest to the right and he found himself thrown inside. the door slammed shut and he looked behind him. The man in gray stood looking down at him, his face illuminated by his wand. "Mr. Black, this will be your new home for the next two weeks. I hope you learn from this. Fighting is really not acceptable." He turned and two dementors came and took his place.

All of the wizards filed out the door, the last one slamming it shut. And he was left alone in complete darkness with the dementors. He fumbled around, feeling the rough stones beneath his hands, trying to find something to touch. He drew back from the bars into a corner and tried to become small. He tried to think of something cheerful but the dementors' evil invaded his mind and he began to sink into depression.

He put his head between his knees and covered it with his hands. He could see the potter's house again, that was never good and then the sound of Hagrid driving off with little Harry. He could see the dead muggles on the street and hear Peter screaming false accusations. In his mind he could hear the man in gray sentencing him to life in prison. He shivered and curled up tighter, his knees digging into his temples. He remembered hearing about people he knew being killed by Death Eaters and bitterly he remembered that now everyone believed he was one of them. He bit his lip angrily and glared out into the darkness to where he knew the dementors were floating. "I'm innocent." He said firmly. They didn't answer but he could hear a distinct hiss emanating from them that had not be there before. "That's right, I'm innocent and now you know it. I'm innocent."


	6. Chapter 6

The two weeks spent in that horrid tower cell were the worst he'd endured in Azkaban yet. And it felt much longer than two weeks, maybe that was because he was constantly with dementors or because there was no light or maybe even because he received less food but it didn't really matter to him because he was consumed by the crushing injustice of it all. He was innocent and no one knew it. He rounded between hatred and depression, the two mixing quite frequently and neither making him feel better. Yet in a way his anger did help. It kept him focused and cleared his mind, so whoever he was hating, whether it was the dementors or the man in gray or Peter he always felt better when he was doing it. And the constant remembrance that he was innocent made him feel stronger because it meant somehow that he was better than them all. That they were wrong.

He lost track of time and didn't care enough to guess. It didn't really matter. They'd let him out when they let him out and that would be the end of it. Counting didn't help.

Finally they did come. The man in gray and two other wizards came. He looked up at them, not really interested in what they had to say. He was to he point where he didn't even care if they left hm locked up. The man in gray cleared his throat, preparing for a sanctimonious speech. "Well, Mr. Black." He said. "The two weeks are up, I hope you learned your lesson and wont be back up here any time soon." Sirius glared at him, the wand light hurting his eyes. "Are you ready to come back down stares?" He didn't answer but grit his teeth together even harder. "Mr. Black, I'm going to need an answer."

Sirius did nothing. One he felt too weak to do so and two, he wasn't going to give he smug prick the satisfaction. Sighing, the man in gray motioned his head for the two wizards accompanying him to remove Sirius form his cell. "Take him down, clan him up and put him back in his regular cell."

The wizards did as they were told, quickly unlocking the door and leading him down the stares to the bathroom again. Sirius let himself be dragged along. He was much too tired to fight back, even when they threw him in the shower. He let the water wash over him and then, when he'd grown used to it and felt stronger he looked up at the wizards who were fishing clean robes out of a cabinet. He watched them move about and his eyes found the man in gray who stood in the doorway observing the whole thing. Hatred surged up inside if him and he glared at him, no even blinking when the water ran into his eyes. Two wizards pulled him up and began dressing him but he didn't even look at them. He was to busy trying to hurt the man by glaring at him.

Finally he did take notice of what was going on around him when he realized two of the wizards were attempting to give him a hair cut. He hoped they didn't cut it too short, he liked his hair long. He turned his head willingly when they went to him shave. And eventually he found himself back in his normal cell, lying on the bed.

He lay still, thinking about how nice it was not to have to sleep on the floor. He slipped into sleep and didn't awaken until the next morning when his breakfast came.


	7. Chapter 7

t didn't seem to matter how many days passed, the weather stayed the same. After the stint in the tower cell, Sirius was much more subdued than before and things only seemed to get worse. Before long half the year was over and he hadn't noticed. He grew quiet and withdrawn, speaking less and less even to himself and when the second year began he'd already gone three months without speaking.

It was in the second year that he began to sleep more. Sleep seemed about the only thing he could do and at least when he did so he was somewhat relieved from his constant state of depression. The man in gray came to visit a few times and each time delivered another high end speech about behavior and attitude. Sirius stopped listening to them. Whatever the man had to say he wasn't interested and he wouldn't be unless the words were an apology or a release.

It was in the yard that he realized how pathetic he was being. He realized Azkaban was getting to him and was disgusted with himself. He weighed the options. A fight might well be worth another turn in the tower cell if it shook him out of his sink. He looked around for someone to mess with. Rodolphus stood in a corner with his bother Rabastan. They were talking quietly. He narrowed his eyes, an old feeling coming over him. Plotting always energized him. James and he had always gotten so enthusiastic when plotting their next great escapade at school. He watched the Lestrange brothers thoughtfully. He knew what they had been accused of. The poor Longbottoms. He wouldn't feel the slightest bit sorry in he got into a fight with one of them. Except, this time they were together and he wasn't stupid enough to pick a fight with both of them. He continued to look around the yard. Dolohov was in a corner with several other death eaters but he wouldn't mess with that.

It was beginning to grate him when he decided he would have to do with the Lestrange brothers. He got up and stalked over to them. Rodolphus turned. "What do you want?" He asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Nothing much, just wanted to ask you how you were getting on." He watched cautiously, waiting to see how aggressive they would be towards him.

The Lestranges exchanged paranoid looks. "And why do you want to know?" Rodolphus sneered. "Well, we're practically family, aren't we? I was just keeping up."

"Don't make me laugh. We aren't family." Sirius pretended to be hurt by his words. "Your wife and I are cousins, doesn't that count for something?" Rabastan laughed harshly. "You're a filthy blood traitor, you're no family to her and certainly not to us."

He made a face. "Ah well, I suppose you're right. She and I never did get along. I've always had a problem with the crazies, if you know what I mean."

Rodolphus cracked his knuckles. "That's my wife."

"And she's crazy. Course, she'd have to be to marry you."

"You know who's crazy?" Rabastan sneered, speaking for the first time. "The Longbottoms. Friends of yours, weren't they?" He laughed. "Lunatics now." He mimed several crazy faces and made blabbering noises. "Nutters to the core from what I hear." Rodolphus gave a nasty, grunting laugh from beside him.

And that was all it took. Sirius lunged at him, totally ignoring the other Lestrange. He knocked Rabastan to the ground and ht him. Like his brother, the death eater was useless when to came to using fists and Sirius took full advantage of it. "You disgusting-" He was cut short by Rodolphus kicking him off of his bother. He rolled over and popped up before they could do anything else. "I take it back. You and your crazy wife are no relatives of mine. You make me sick."

Rabastan straitened up, trying to pretend he still had some of his former dignity. Sirius spat at them. "Why did you come over here, Black?" Rodolphus asked. "Did you come to start a fight?"

Sirius glared at them. "Death Eater scum." He muttered.

"Yeah, you can call us that." Rabastan sneered. "But to the wrest of the world, you're one of us. You should have seen Bellatrix's face when she read in the paper you'd been arrested. She said that if the thought of you here in Azkaban hadn't been so funny to her, she'd have gone down to the ministry to sort it out herself. She said that it was an insult to have mixed you up with us. I have to agree."

Rage boiling over Sirius said: "I agree too. I've never been so insulted in my life."

"You talk big but I bet the dementors have you pissing yourself every night." He hissed. "Maybe, after the Dark Lord comes back and we all get out of here, maybe we'll leave you here. Maybe we'll leave you here all by yourself with the dementors. You like attention, Black you should enjoy that."

Sirius cringed ever so slightly at the thought. "You really think he's coming back? He's gone. He'd dead and he's going to stay that way."

And this time it was Rabastan who attacked first. He flung himself at Sirius, fists flying like crazy. "Don't you dare say that, you filthy blood traitor! Don't you dare say that! Mud-blood lovers like you are the reason wizards have sunk so low!"

Sirius threw his arms up for protection, glad he'd finally gotten a rise out of one of them. He darted away from Rabastan's assaults and laughed, infuriating the Death Eater even more. "You're not very good at this, haven't you ever been in a fight before?" He laughed again, feeling rather good about himself. "No, of coarse you haven't! Bellatrix fought all your fights for you, didn't she?"

At last Rabastan managed to get in one good hit and he sent Sirius spiraling to the ground. The Death Eater was about to hit him again when a blast of light hit him in the chest and he fell back. Next to Sirius, Rodolphus hit the ground too, avoiding being hit with a wand blast. Sirius looked up. He eyed the guard suspiciously and then proceeded to yell about how he had been attacked.

"Help!" He yelled. "They attacked me! They tried to kill me, I was only defending myself, honest!" He said, rather convincingly too. He made a show of pretending to be hurt. He wasn't gong back in that tower cell again if he could help it. He glanced at Rodolphus who looked outraged and smirked.

The guard began helping him up and even though his hands were bound with magic he was still satisfied that the Lestranges would have it worse. They were still pinned to the ground at wand point looking furious. "Don't think this is over, Black!" Rabastan yelled but he was stopped by a silencing charm. Sirius flashed them a grin. He had the very childish temptation to stick his tongue out but refrained, still pretending to be a victim.

He was ushered into the man in gray's office. He had not seen the man in almost half year but was not surprised that he had managed to become even more bland and distasteful. He eyed Sirius as though he had a million other things he wanted to do before speaking to him and dying was one of them. "What did he do?" He asked looking irritated.

The guard fidgeted uncomfortably. "He got in a fight. I'm not sure how it started but he got beaten up." He gave Sirius an odd look and shrugged. "I broke it up."

The man in gray sighed. "Mr. Black, it's been over a year since we had any problems from you, could you tell us why you feel the need to cause them now?"

Sirius frowned. "I didn't start this."

"It's true sir," The guard said. "I only saw Mr. Lestrange attack him."

"Yes, I'm sure Mr. Black had nothing to do with it." The man in gray snapped. "I've too much work to deal with this. Black, you loose yard privileges for the next three months, take him back to his cell and put Lestrange in a tower cell."

Even as he was escorted back, Sirius couldn't help but feel he'd gotten a lucky break. He was damn lucky not to be up in a tower cell like Rabastan. He didn't feel guilty at all. No matter what he'd said or what kind of punishment the Lestranges got it would never equal what they had done to the Longbottoms.


	8. Chapter 8

Sirius's thee months without the yard were not as bad as they could have been. He managed to keep his spirits up and even though he was weighed down by Rabastan's words about everyone thinking he was a Death Eater he managed to again delude himself that there was someone out there who knew the truth. He wondered if Dumbledore knew. He had to have some idea because Dumbledore always seemed to know everything, and infuriating as that was it was worse when he was faced with the fact that apparently Dumbledore did not know. This time He had told himself no to think of Remus anymore because he'd long lost hope with him. It hurt to think his only remaining friend thought he was a cruel murderer. But again, he tried not to think of those things. Instead he tried retreating into his mind to earlier and happier times. Times at school. The short time he'd lived with James. Those were the best, even fighting along side his best friend against Death Eaters was a better time. Their lives might have been in danger but back then they were all together.

A man, accompanied by a dementor came and lead him from his thoughts back to his cell. "The three months are up, your block is going down to the yard and bathroom privileges." He said. Sirius got up and let himself be directed out the door. He hadn't left his cell for three months. A shower, even a rushed one was very much appreciated.

As they passed his cousin's cell he heard her muttering to herself rapidly, somehow it sounded more like shrieking than talking. He hadn't actually seen what she looked like now but he was sure it was bad. He'd heard guards talk about how difficult of a prisoner she was. They all said she was crazy and he was tempted sometimes to tell them what she had been like before Azkaban. But after what she and the Lestarange brothers had done to the poor Longbottoms, he was more ashamed than ever to be related to her. He shook his head and kept walking.

He was let loose outside. It was chilly and wet, like always. He'd long since come to the conclusion that, aside from the dementors, Azkaban's other great form of torture was it's sameness. Everything, everyday and in every way was the same. Including the weather.

He walked out into the gray yard and wrapped his cloak around him more tightly. It was getting shabby, he'd worn he same one for two years now. He supposed that if they ever did give him a new one it would only be once the old one rotted off his shoulders.

He avoided the Lestranges and as usual, most of the other Death Eaters. Since he'd first arrived, many of them had progressed further into madness. Ranting, talking to themselves, or just plain staying quiet with far off, empty look on they face. He wondered how he looked to them. He didn't rant or scream and he didn't feel crazy. . . well, not most of the time. Sometimes he was sure the dementors had driven him crazy. Sometimes he was just positive that he'd lost it but it didn't matter because the present was not one of those times and it was better not to think of those times.

He looked up at the sky, how he wished to see the sun again. It was always too rainy and cloudy to see it. He'd missed sunsets and sunrises, he could stay up all night and never see one of those.

It was then, in the midst of his bitterness he noticed someone new. He watched them for a moment and knew that, Death Eater or not he had to speak to them. He had to hear about the outside world before the man went mad like the others.

He approached cautiously. The man looked jumpy. He had a nervous, weak look and seemed on the verge of tears. "Hey." Sirius grunted. The man jumped about a foot. He turned looking terrified.

"W-what do you want?" He asked.

"Talk." Sirius grunted. His voice was rough from lack of use. It sounded strange, sounding like him and yet not. "I want to talk."

The man's eyes darted around. "What about?" He asked, looking cornered even though, he was not at all and if he really wanted to it would have been easy for him to just walk away.

"Outside." Sirius grunted. "What's going on?"

The man looked confused. "Outside?" He repeated.

"Yeah, in the world." Becoming aggravated by the man's stupidity he added somewhat sarcastically: "You know, not in Azkaban?"

"Oh. I don't know. Not much."

He sighed. What a useless man. He changed tactics. "Fine. Well, I suppose you're a Death Eater then?" He said. His cell block was made up of Death Eaters and so it only made sense.

The man shook his head viciously. "I swear I'm not! I'm really not! I'm a book seller, that's all!"

Sirius raised an eyebrow. To meet another truly innocent person like himself would be something. It would sure as hell improve the company, that was for sure. He looked the man over. "What's your name?"

"D-Darius MacDarrin! I don't know why they would even think I'm one. I'm half-blood. My dads' a muggle. Makes no sense for me to be killing them."

Sirius snorted darkly. "Doesn't have to make sense for them."

"I was Imperioused! I swear it! I never wanted to hurt those people. Honest!"

He frowned and came to realize just a little of why it was so hard to believe a man when he said he was innocent. Because anyone could say it. Rodolphus and his brother could say I 'till they were blue in the face and it wouldn't change anything. Peter could say it. . . He shook his head, refusing to think about Peter. Instead he focused on the man in front of him. "I thought they were good at telling who was Imperioused and who wasn't?"

MacDarrin shook his head. "They can't tell, not really." He gave Sirius a frightened look. "You aren't . . ." He paused. "You aren't Sirius Black are you" He was obviously afraid of the answer.

Sirius felt some relief. If he was still recognizable from what he had looked like before Azkaban, that meant he was still somewhat himself. He nodded and the man flinched. He growled slightly. He should have been expecting that reaction. "And I didn't kill those people. I never killed anyone. I'm innocent." He felt stronger saying it and especially to another person.

MacDarrin looked skeptical. "They had witnesses." He mumbled.

"They were lied to!" Sirius snapped and if you want me to believe you then you might as well believe me."

MacDarrin nodded, looking defeated. "Oh, I don't belong here. I keep trying to get them to reevaluate my trial." He shook his head forlornly.

Sirius felt a stab of sympathy but was too hungry for news to peruse the subject. "Tell me about the outside! Whats going on?" Even the most mundane of stories would sound delicious. "Tell me! Quidditch, the Ministry, You-Know-Who! Anything." He really was desperate.

MacDarrin looked thoughtful. "Well, it seems with he exception of me, they've gotten most of the Death Eaters locked up now. Most people say He Who Must Not Be Named is dead and gone thanks to Harry Potter." MacDarrin looked vaguely happy.

Sirius smiled, thinking of his Godson. "You know," He said. "I'm his Godfather."

MacDarrin's large, fearful eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

Sirius felt a wave of pride sweep over him. "Yeah, me and his dad were best mates." He stopped rather shortly because it always hurt to think of James especially to think of him in the past tense.

Mac Darrin's eyes were still huge. "So, does that man you met Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived?!"

Sirius thought back to that horrible night, the last time he'd held little Harry. "Of coarse it does. I wouldn't make a very good Godfather if I'd never met him." He chose to overlook the fact that he could not be a very good Godfather from within Azkaban either.

"What's he like?" MacDarrin asked excitedly.

"Well. . . He was a baby." He had the strong feeling that MacDarin was not all that intelligent. He sighed. "He was a cute baby."

MacDarrin nodded. "Wow."

Names for bathroom privileges were being called out. He couldn't wait for his to be called. He desperately wanted a shower.

He talked to MacDarrin for a while longer, trying to get more news out of him. If he truly had been imperioused, and it was completely believable, Sirius doubted the man was capable of any sort of atrocities, then he'd finally found someone he could relate to. He felt a bit bad for the man. He was scared and new and maybe not that strong of a person.

When his name was called he apologized to MacDarrin and ran to the door, again trying to beat the dementors and again failing.

The shower was very much welcome and warm, like always and even though he had to hurry he felt better. He returned to his cell with a much lightened heart. He'd met someone in the ame predicament as he was and what more the man was a decent person. He would finally have some someone to talk to. Perhaps he wasn't the sort of person Sirius would normally look for to be friends with but he was better than nothing and he wasn't that bad.

When he went to sleep he somehow found it much easier to drift off. Take that, Dementors. He thought. I've got something to be happy about and theirs' nothing you can do.


	9. Chapter 9

Sirius now looked forward to the yard visits much more. MacDarrin had proved himself less wimpy than he'd originally come across as and he found himself rather linking the man's company. But then something happened that absolutely crushed his spirit. He received mail. He was rather surprised.

The man in gray delivered his mail himself. "Normally a prisoner in your position would not be allowed any letters but I found nothing too objectionable in these. The first one is old. I lost it and only found it only recently. It arrived a few months after you did, it's from your mother. The second is from a Remus Lupin and then you have one from an Alphard Black ."

Sirius sat up on his bed, looking stunned. "What?" He took the letters and waited for the man in gray to leave before tearing them open. The one from his mother was expected.

"Dear Sirius, not only do you abandon your family and bring disgrace at every turn you now have seen fit to get yourself placed in Azkaban, while there is not a single doubt in my mind that Azkaban is a perfectly fitting place for you and you are wholly deserving of it, you have also made sure of ending the Black Family line. I am absolutely ashamed, to think that our family will brought to an end because of one of my offspring. As to your crime, I find it rather laughable that the Ministry was idiotic enough to think you capable of such an act. However, guilty or not I think you have finally found yourself in a fitting home. I am pleased to think of you there after all of the trouble you caused at home and the shame you have brought to The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. A house who's name you do not deserve to carry. You have never been any better than a common squib. I'm glad your father never lived to see this final act of disgrace you have perpetrated a pone your family. In closing I would like to a sure you that under no circumstances should you expect a visit from me. Sincerely, Walburga Black".

Sirius read over his mother's letter and threw it to the side. He wondered just how long it took her to get the angry wording perfect. He turned his attention to his uncle's letter, he expected a little better from him.

"Dear Sirius, I could not believe it when I read of your arrest in the paper. I still don't believe it, I know you did not hurt anyone and I went to the Ministry to try and sort things out but they sent me away. I'm afraid the Black name is now more than ever blacklisted. (I hope you appreciate the pun.) If I get the chance I will come and visit you, I feel absolutely horrible knowing you're locked up in Azkaban. I suppose I don't even need to mention to you what a horrid place it is. I'll do everything I can to try and get this mess sorted out, I promise. Your mother was ranting for days after your arrest and I'm sure that she's written an especially carefully worded letter to you by now. I hope it wasn't too terrible. Keep strong and even in the midst of despair try and stay positive. I hate thinking of my favorite nephew in that wretched place. Sincerely Alphard Black"

Well, the letter wasn't long but at least it was better than his mother's. He set it aside on the bed with much more care than he had the first. And turned to the last letter. He was almost afraid to read it.

"Sirius, it took me so long to write because I could not handle myself to do so for so long. I know you can't write back and so there is no point in asking but I will never understand why you did what you did. I will never understand why you killed our friends. I thought James was your best friend. His family took you in when you ran away, Harry is your Godson! How could you have betrayed them like that? The Potters loved you and we all trusted you! And poor Peter, you knew he never had a chance against you and yet you still destroyed him and all of those innocent muggles. I am appalled. I really am. And I hate myself for ever trusting you."

Sirius crumpled the letter angrily. He'd counted on Remus being at least a little smarter than all of the other idiots in the world. Hell, even his wretched mother figured the truth, not that she cared. He made sure to keep himself angry because otherwise he would loose himself and cry. At that moment his favorite person in the whole world was his uncle. The only person who knew him innocent and actually cared. No wonder the man in gray found nothing objectionable in these letters. His mother expressed nothing but joy at his imprisonment and his only remaining friend now hated him.

He wadded Remus's letter and threw it out the window. He never wanted to read those words again. He lay back and reread his uncle's letter. It made him feel a little better. He could always count on his uncle. If only he had been Alphard's child and not Walburga's, things would have been so much better. Sure he disagreed with his uncle on lots of things but his uncle wasn't a full blown psychotic-PMSing mess of bigotry. Ah, the poor man had been blasted off the tapestry too because of him, though he supposed it would only have been a matter of time, he always made Walburga mad.

Sirius sighed, the dementors were loving this and thinking of his mother was not helping, he was remembering her shrill, earsplitting screams and could almost hear them. Ugh. He was getting such a headache just from remembering. He tried to think of something else but their power was overtaking him. Sometimes he didn't even know why he tried. The dementors always won.

The letters from his uncle and mother lay next to him on the bed and in his mind the hatred from his mother overlapped with the anger and disgust from Remus. Oh, Remus was so stupid. He though. How could he ever believe the papers? He knew Sirius personally and he was supposed to be the smart one of the group. But then, Peter had tricked them all. Maybe that was it, maybe it was the same as Peter tricking him.

It hurt unbelievably. He could expect it from his mother, her words were the same as always but from Remus, his last hope, it was simply crushing. He closed his eyes and tried his best not loose control. He had done such a good job of it ever since his first night in Azkaban but this was about to push him over the edge. And he thought that if Alphard ever did get him out he would set things strait with Remus before he did anything else, because he didn't want his only living friend hating him.

He was awoken the next morning by breakfast and took a look at the letters next to him. He shoved his mother's away and looked over his uncle's again. It made him feel a little better. He ate without thinking and set the bowl aside and sighed. Same bland shit as usual. He was still stinging from Remus's letter and didn't feel like doing anything except sulking. He sat against the wall staring into a corner angrily thinking of what he would say to him if he ever saw Remus again.

He was bitter and resented everything. And then to his annoyance screaming started up in the hallway, led as always by his cousin who almost fought to be heard over the din. "Oh shut up." He muttered to no one in particular. Ah, that was it! Screaming at the top of your lungs must be a Black Family trait. He thought cynically. His dreams had been full of his mother's shrieks and rants from days past. Compliments, he was sure of from the dementorsto ensure a restless night's sleep. "Ah, go away." He grunted.

A cell door opened and then his cousin's shrieks stopped abruptly. Someone must have stunned he. "Thank you." He said, but not too loudly. With the absence of Bellatrix's screams the other Death Eaters quieted, no doubt afraid of being stunned too and Sirius relaxed back into his angry thoughts.


	10. Chapter 10

He was eager for the next time in the yard and when the day came it was a little dryer out. He followed the wizard guard quickly, this time not slowing at his cousin's cell. He noticed the wizard had a copy of the Daily Prophet with him. "Do you mind me borrowing that?" He asked.

The wizard grunted and handed over the paper. It wasn't hard to get papers the difficulty was in keeping them. He folded the paper under his arm and quickened his pace. Once outside he looked for MacDarrin who was standing in a corner looking tired.

"MacDarrin!" He grunted. "Look what I got." He waved the paper. MacDarrin's eyes grew wide. "How''d you get that?" Sirius grinned. "Just asked." MacDarrin hurried to meet him and the two of them stalked off to find a relatively Death Eater free corner of the yard. They opened the front page and examined an article over a new law redefining experimental breeding. After a few minutes Sirius looked up and sighed. There was nothing especially interesting. MacDarrin looked around.

"I got good news." He said. "Eh?" Sirius asked. MacDarrin smiled. "I go them to review my case. My wife put some pressure on outside." He grinned and shook a little. "I don't know if it's much but it's still something. I could get out!"

Sirius knew he should be happy for MacDarrin and he was but he still felt jealous and a little angry. He knew there was no chance in hell of him getting his case reviewed. He smiled. "That's great. Looks like you'll get out!"

MacDarrin continued to shake. "I hope so. I don't think I can stand much more of this place." They both looked up at the tower that was now ingrained in Sirius's mind. He doubted either he or MacDarrin would forget what it looked like. It made it very hard to feel happy for someone when he was faced with the reminder that he would probably never get out, no matter what his uncle tried to do. Still, he continued to smile and wished MacDarrin luck. They discussed the outside world a bit. MacDarrin was a few years older than him and had been on is house;s quidditch team at school playing Keeper. Sirius was thrilled to hear that and told him all about James's time on the Gryffindor team. MacDarrin thought it was fantastic.

"I must have been in my seventh year your first." He said. "I wish I'd gotten a chance to play against him." Sirius grinned. "I'm sure he would have loved to play you too." He found it little less painful to talk about James to MacDarrin who was eager to hear stories of their exploits from school and was a good listener. He told him several of their best, leaving out certain details and some of the more incriminating acts. He also neglected to mention the fact that he was an animgus but even without those small details the stories were still great.

He found that with hope of release ahead, MacDarrin had a sort of immunity to the dementors and was able to laugh and with someone laughing it was easier for him to make the stories more interesting.

MacDarrin had several good stories himself from quidditch matches and a few mishaps but Sirius guess that all in all he was a say out of trouble kind of person.

The dementors were not at all pleased with their laughter and neither were several Death Eaters though most just looked curious. Sirius watched the Lestrange brothers sulk in a corner with Dolohov, ever since Rabstan had been let out of the tower cell they had been avoiding him. He was glad of it too because he finally had someone to talk to and did not want to loose his yard "privileges". He watched several Death Eaters give him a nasty look and wondered if any of them had killed anyone he had known.

MacDarrin distracted him by reopening the newspaper. "Look at this, they're saying that the majority of the Death Eater threat is over and advising people to resume their lives to the best of what it had been before." Sirius snorted. "Yeah, threats' over." He muttered darkly.

Next to him MacDarrin was surveying the yard dismally. "Look, some of them have stopped eating." He pointed to several Death Eaters who stood listlessly mixed among the crowd. They did indeed look thinner and weaker. "I guess they figured starving to death was better than living here."

Sirius watched them sourly. "I don't blame them." As if to prove his point, a dementor glided by, eerily silent and menacing. "Ugh," He shivered. Next to him MacDarrin did the same. "See what I mean?" They sat silently. Contemplating dark thoughts and becoming bitter until Sirius's name was called. "Oh, that's me." He muttered, getting up. "See ya." He hated to go. Really he did. He spent so much time alone that he had come to relish the time in the yard. It was so much better to have someone to talk to and even better that they weren't a Death Eater.

He dragged himself up to the door and then inside to he bathroom. He was too sour even to make any good comments towards he guards as he usually did. Although several floated across his mind. He'd left the newspaper with MacDarrin and so when he returned to his cell he had nothing to read. He sat on his bed lot in thought.

Part of him wanted MacDarrin to get out. He knew himself how horrid Azkaban was and no one should suffer it but there was a tiny piece of his heart that didn't want him to go. He did not want to be left alone again with only Death Eaters for company and it surprised him because he knew under normal circumstances he would probably never speak to someone like MacDarrin. That showed just how much he longed for human interaction. The man in gray didn't count because he was about as close to a dementor a Sirius thought possible in man.

He sighed and rolled onto his side. The copy of the Daily Prophet told him with a painful jolt that he had already spent close to three years in Azkaban. He loathed it. Three years was a very long time. He tried to think of all the things he could have been doing during those three years but it was hard. He did not know how much the world had changed or the people in it and he found himself strikingly unimaginative. He could come up with nothing that felt realistic. He wondered if Azkaban was becoming his only realty. He shuddered at the thought and pulled out his uncle's letter to read again.

He'd memorized it but still liked seeing the words and letters in a familiar hand. He hoped hat his uncle would be true and visit him. MacDarrin was alright but he'd prefer someone who knew what was going on outside. He sighed again. It seemed like that was all he ever did anymore. Sigh and sgh again. He was lost in thought and none of it was happy. He hadn't even looked over his mother's letter since he'd gotten it. Here was no point in reading her angry words when he already had enough depressing him. The only reason he hadn't thrown it out the window was because he felt that by keeping it he had some possessions although the man in gray had gleefully told him that he no longer owned anything.

He scowled at the blank wall opposite him and cursed but it wasn't an angry curse it was more of a tired, sad one. The kind used when he couldn't find the strength to be angry.

He ran a hand through his hair. Mercifully clean for he first time in a while. It was getting long again. A bit longer even than he liked. He played with the ends. He'd always liked his long hair. Kept him looking cool and pissed his parents off at the same time. He sighed again. Well, like before. There was no one there to impress. He sighed once more and tried to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Winter was almost missed Azkaban. With little concept of time and the weather being in a constant state of cold, Sirius hardly noticed when the season changed. He realized it must be close to Christmas when the wizard guards' talk turned to holidays but it meant little to him other than that he had now spent three years imprisoned. For a couple weeks he turned even more depressed and bitter than ususal but as all things in Azkaban it took too much energy to stay focused on one thing and he soon gave up brooding to focus again on how miserable the place was. Somehow it always managed to get worse the colder the weather got.

He was almost envious of the guards he now came to regard as over-privileged, ass holes who didn't know how good they got it but stopped himself when he remembered to hate them more. The lat two Christmases had been nothing and that meant literally nothing. It was very hard to have any sort of cheer in a place where your head was filled with your worst memories and thoughts. And the nasty, sarcastic comments from the guards about Christmas joy didn't help much either and certainly neither did he dementors who seemed the very opposite of holiday cheer.

Sirius wondered how MacDarrin was doing. Despite reassurances from the ministry that he would receive a second trial, it had yet to happen and the few times he had seen the man he looked thinner and thinner and appeared to be wasting away under the dementors' influence. Sirius pitied him, he obviously was not cut out for Azkaban but then he wondered, how was he? It seemed impossible that three years had already passed but at the same time it seemed impossible that only three years had passed.

He wondered just how accustomed he'd become to his cell and why he no longer feared the sound of approaching footsteps or why the feeling of not knowing what was going on outside his cell no longer bothered him. He now feared complacency and the inner feeling that he was slowly growing to acceptance. More than anything he hated the lack of news. He had only a vague understanding of the outside world and as always the lack of knowing drove him mad, even more mad than the dementors were doing because it kept him feeling stupid. He couldn't stand feeling stupid.

He received another letter from his uncle on around Christmas and although it was short he tore it open and read it as quickly as he could.

"Dear Sirius, I am sorry to bare ill tidings on Holidays but I feel it would be in bad taste not to mention anything to you. My efforts to gain you a trial are coming to nothing. The Ministry is unyielding and my efforts have all been in vain. They simply will not consider the possibility that you are innocent and I feel bound to tell you that your mother is not pleased with my efforts either. She has gone so far as to threaten me. I am sorry to have nothing but ill news to report. On a lighter note, I will be able to pick up your wand later in the coming year. I will have it placed in my vault. I would not trust in your mother's. Again, I am sorry that his comes to nothing. I suppose the Ministry is so strict because it would be admitting fault if they were proven wrong. This may not sound like an acceptable reason to your ears but to this Ministry, accepting fault would be weakness and no government wishes to show that. I apologize once more for my lack of good tidings and wish you the best. Sincerity, Alphard Black. P.S. I will attempt a visit within the coming year."

Sirius folded up he letter in a foul mood. What good was his wand if he could not reach it. All it showed was his family's pride not to be defeated in this once last act. His feelings grew darker when he thought of his mother threatening the only person who wished to help him. He folded the letter neatly and lay back on his bed, scowling. His uncle's letter was useless but at least it gave him a glimpse of life outside Azkaban.

He knew his uncle was right about the ministry not wanting to admit fault but their pride should not effect him. Still, the thought of a visit from someone from the outside world gave him hope. Not much, but some. He was sure the man in gray would try and stop it though. And all in all, he wasn't even sure he was allowed visitors. Hey probably thought he was too dangerous to be allowed contact. And even more, they wouldn't trust a relative.

He knew MacDarrin had been allowed a visit from his wife and daughter once but MacDarrin had told them only to write. He did not want them exposed to the dementors and Sirius couldn't blame him, if he'd had a wife or daughter he would not have wanted them exposed to he dementors' evil either. He now doubted he would have either though. The whole life in prison thing would get in the way. He wondered sometimes if the whole, wife and kids thing appealed to him but always came up empty. He really had no idea what he wanted. Perhaps he was too young to think of such things, after all; he'd never thought of them before Azkaban.

Thoughts of the letter spiraled around in his head but nothing was made any clearer. He'd found prison life gave him plenty of time to think. He supposed he was supposed to be reflecting on his crime but seeing as how he was innocent, he had to occupy his mind with other things. Sometimes it was difficult to think at all and he lay empty with a sick feeling and yet other times his mind was full to bursting with thoughts, many of them horrible but some good ones always found their way in. He began telling himself stories aloud. The guards and dementors probably thought he was loosing his mind but it was quite the opposite, telling himself stories kept him sane and so did trying to think of a future. Not a future outside, although many times he allowed himself the joy but a more short term future. Th next thing he would say to MacDarrin or a guard. Sometimes he'd play out conversations in his head that might never be put into voice but they were still nice things. He slept less than he had earlier in the year, before he'd been unable to stay awake and sleep was a way to keep dark thought from his mind but now he couldn't sleep. He now felt as though he had to constantly be thinking and even if the thoughts weren't happy, he felt as though he would go mad if he wasn't constantly thinking.

Time passed and he was pretty sure the new year had come. With it his hope of a visit increased. He had moved past being angry with Remus for his letter. He didn't know any better. He had been lied to too, just like the rest of the world. Peter had tricked everyone. And of all the things that changed, his anger towards Peter never left. If anything it grew worse and he had to actually fight to keep control of it. Sometimes it threatened to overwhelm him and he thought he might be driven into madness by it and then sometimes that didn't seem so bad, fighting off the dementors' effects and his own anger was draining. It was exhausting but he would not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him go mad.

If anything it was pride that kept him from allowing himself the privilege of madness, pride and the remembrance that he was innocent.


	12. Chapter 12

The first yard visit after what was assumed to be Christmas was a cold and dreary one but Sirius and MacDarrin still managed to find some humor in a Christmas uncelebrated. They stood in a corner talking. Sirius made the humorless joke of: "What did you do for your holidays?"

MacDarrin shrugged. "Nothing really. Same as usual."

"Yeah me too." It ended on darker note than was perhaps intended but there was really nothing to be light about. Thy stared up at the sky and Sirius could tell the wait of a trial was weighing on MacDarrin. He sighed and felt pity for the man. "How long have you been in here?" He asked.

MacDarrin looked up. "Bit over half a year now." He said. "Why?"

Sirius shook his head. "No reason. I was just wondering." They stayed silent until the cold brought their teeth to chattering. He wondered briefly if it was really that cold or if the dementors made it worse. MacDarrin stayed silent and gazed up at the sky again, things were dark and the sun never showed for long but when it did, it was a cruel, bright sun with no warmth to offer and it's only light was sharp and cutting. One more thing Azkaban had ruined.

"So, get any letters?" MacDarrin asked. Turning from he sky at last.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, got one a few days ago form my uncle."

"Any good news?"

"None."

MacDarin made a noise of sympathy. "I'm sorry. I got a letter from my wife but it was the same. She hasn't gotten any more information about my trial." He paused. "Real cheerful Christmas."

They shivered as a dementor passed by. It stopped and hovered, seemingly enjoying the feeling it created. It drew in the air around them and left nothing. Sirius gave it the coldest look he could muster but unless he was wrong, it only enjoy it. He scowled and looked away. They really were wicked creatures. In a horrid flashing moment he remembered how Remus had always said chocolate was the best cure for he dementors' effects and he felt worse than he thought possible.

It passed and His raised his head. He'd lowered it without even knowing. The wretched plague of the demenors was that they got worse every time. He cleared his throat. "Ugh." Suddenly the desire to speak was made difficult.

Next to him MacDarrin sighed. "Well, I suppose things can't get any worse for us. I mean, even if I never get out it can't get any worse." Sirius disagreed, thinking of the tower cell but didn't voice it. He didn't want to bring MacDarrin down any further. He knew the man missed his wife and daughter painfully and could only respect his strength. He had no one on the outside waiting for him, only a misguided godson who would only know him as a killer who's betrayed his father. This struck him deeply because he loved Harry and liked to believe that somewhere in the little boy's future he would learn the truth.

MacDarrin shuffled his feet. "Let's walk, I'm cold." He said. They took off, moving slowly and avoiding clusters of Death Eaters. The Lestranges kept to themselves and the rest eyed them suspiciously. They knew they were innocent and somehow it frightened them, made them distrustful.

"BLACK, SIRIUS!" Was called out across the dead yard and they had to part. Sirius was now regretting that his name began with a 'b'. t always meant he would be one of he first people called. He hustled up the steps and to the shower room, trying to ignore the dementor trailing behind, waiting for the opportunity to use it's evil.

To his surrprise he was not taken to the shower room. Instead he was lead down a new hall. It looked the same as all he others but with more doors. The two wizards guards and the dementor stopped outside one of the doors and they used magic to bind him with manacles. He was completely confused. Unless some new 'safety measure' had been instated and he now had to wear chains to bathe, he had no idea what was happening. He could do nothing when the door was opened and he was pushed in. he stumbled but did not fall.

Sirius looked around, just as the door behind him was closed. He was in a dimly light room with a gray, metal table placed in the center. A man was seated at the table and in the dim light he finally saw a face he recognized. It had been a little over three years now since he'd had glimpse of someone he knew personally. His uncle Alphard sat across from him, not smiling but wearing a look of calculation. Sirius knew he must have looked like a mess to his uncle but there was really nothing he could do. He tried to smile.

His uncle gave him a frown and he took the seat opposite him. He stared at his uncle for a long time. Even if family wasn't top of his list of people he wanted to see it was good to see someone he knew. He waited for him to say something and cleared his throat nervously. Alphard took his time.

Finally he spoke "It's good to see you again, Sirius." He sounded older now. He looked older too, come to think of it. Maybe three years was lot longer than he thought. "I guess Azkaban hasn't been able to to take everything from yo after all." His eyes darted up his nephew's frame. "Well, not everything at least." There was some sadness in his words.

Sirius cracked another grin. "I'm glad you came." And he really was. He'd longed for information about the world outside for so long it had almost become an obsession. He waited eagerly for his uncle to say something more.

"It took me while. The ministry was very against me visiting you and they put a limit. You can only have one visit a year. They're convinced you're as dangerous as He-who-must-not-be-named." Alphard's looked tired, he was unused to the dementors' effects. "Did you get my letters okay? I sent two. I don't know if you're allowed them."

Sirius nodded. "I got them." He thought for a minute. "And mum's."

"Ah, about that. Just be glad she didn't send you a howler. She's been in bad state since you were arrested. It's done nothing for her. She's taken the end to the Black family very hard. She blames me partly, for not having any children and even Cygnus for only having daughters." He shook his head sadly. "I've tried to talk to her but she won't reason and certainty not with me. After I left you that money she stopped talking to me." Sirius felt a surge of guilt but his uncle continued. "Don't worry about that. She can't do anything else to me so she's had me disowned. It's not your fault anyway, it was my choice to give you money."

Sirius nodded, still feeling guilty. "I didn't know that." He paused, wishing he looked less of a mess. He didn't like the way his uncle looked at him. It was concern mixed with just a little bit of disgust. He must have bee in a real state. "So, how have things other than family been?"

Alphard sighed. "Well, since the end of the war things have loosened up considerably. People go out more. Witches and wizards aren't traveling in packs anymore. Diagon Alley is always full of people. Life is back to the way it was before he came to power. Well, maybe a little different. People are wiser now and there's always a fear in the back of their minds of Death Eaters and Him. But things have elaxed. Your arrest was one of the last big ones, after it people really seemed to think things were ending. Harry Potter is a hero to almost everyone." Alphard smiled slightly. "I thought that might interest you."

Sirius smiled. He had no idea what Harry looked like now and so he always pictured him as a baby and it made him proud to think that the hero to the wizarding world was his godson. "Yeah, I heard a bit about him." It felt incredibly good to hear about little Harry. "I guess you haven't heard anything about him other than that?"

"No, I'm sorry. I hate to tell you this, but I don't think it'll matter what I do, the ministry won't even consider giving you a trial." Sirius sat sourly. He'd known it all along but there had always been a it of hope lingering. "I really am sorry. If a chance arrives, I'll do what I can but as it is, there's no chance right now."

"I know." He hoped he didn't look too disappointed, he didn't want his uncle too see the pain it caused him. "I never really counted on it working out." He wanted to change the subject. "So, how have you been?"

"I've been good. Things are slowing down for me, maybe I'm getting old. Your mother's health isn't doing so well either. She won't admit it though." Sirius did not really want to hear about his mother but he listened politely. "I feel a bit sorry for her, she's alone now. Well, she's got that house elf but that's not real company."

"She'll be fine. I don't think she can die that easily." The words came out a bit nastier than he had meant them to but he didn't care. Hearing about his mother would not make him feel better.

Alphard sighed. "Well, let me ask you some questions. How have you been? I can't imagine things have been very pleasant in here. That warden, he's a tough one. Real friendly sort." He made a face of dislike. "Rather nasty man."

"Yeah, he's a pick." Sirius ignored his uncle's dislike of cursing and the small noise he made and fidgeted with his shackles. "But I guess he's not as bad as the dementors or anything. . ." He did not want to think of those awful creatures. "They're what's worst about this place." His uncle made a sympathetic noise.

As much as he liked his uncle there was something wholly Black about him. The way he carried himself was so proper and it was everything he himself had fought against for years but he was still grateful and the sight of someone clean and healthy looking who didn't sneer or make faces at him was a blessing. He felt so much more relaxed with someone he knew seated across form him and he doubted he'd ever again be so grateful towards another person.

Alphard sighed. "Sirius, I really will try and get you a trial, if that's the least I can do. . ." He knew it wasn't much but he hated seeing his nephew like this. Sirius was all drawn up in his chair and so boney. He looked rather ill and there was a horrid look in his eyes.

Sirius nodded. "I know, I trust you." He had nothing else to say, hope for a trial had dwindled to nothing. "I'm grateful."

Alphard paused. "I'll try and write more. I know you don't get much mail so I'll try." He waited, watching his nephew nod. "I'll come visit you again as soon as can." He stood up as he door opened.

"Times up." A wizard said. "Visiting hours are over." Alphard put a hand on Sirius's shoulder as he passed. And Sirius's eyes followed him out. The door closed and then he was returned o his cell. Not sure what he was feeling, just grateful for the human contact.


	13. Chapter 13

The days that followed his uncle's visit were odd to Sirius. He sort of felt himself drifting. He sometimes found himself angry that the rest of the world was healing without him, that people were happy again while he rotted. Then he would fee guilty about said feelings and mope around for days. It wasn't until MacDarrin shook him out of his slump by telling him of his trial date that anything changed.

It was a big shock and despite everything he was happy for him. MacDarrin's eyes were wide and unbelieving as his own good fortune. He stuttered and laughed with new freedom. Sirius smiled at his joy, letting a little of it filter onto him. "I'm glad for you." He said, honestly he wasn't even sure he was capable of envy at this point and so his happiness was true. He watched MacDarrin for a moment in he yard. He looked truly happy. It was good to see him like that, he looked so much younger and healthier.

MacDarrin smiled. "I'm thrilled." He said. "I'm just so happy. My wife and girl are gonna throw me a party when get out! I know I will, they have to believe me now!"  
Sirius smiled. It didn't really bother him that McDarrin was rambling, the man had every right to be happy. By all rights he should be even happier than he already was and he would have been but for the dementors.

The wind blew and made everything colder but the joy did not leave MacDarrin's eyes.

Imprisonment hurt them more because hey were innocent and they knew they were innocent and that made it all the worse. Really it did. They suffered along with the guilty but unlike the guilty the were left with a gnawing feeling in their minds and bodies that was the reminder that they had done nothing and were suffering unjustly. It gave hem a feeling of a helpless lost, sot of like always being hungry and yet never being able to fill themselves.

MacDarrin had the chance to escape that hunger and to live as a free, happy man again. To never again be controlled in a way that was dehumanizing way that stripped them of heir minds. He would never feel the dementors evil that lead to misery and despair again. Sirius was glad he would leave, jealous as he was he was glad because it was someone he knew and in a way he hoped a piece of him might leave the gates with MacDarrin. That maybe some small part of him would know freedom once more.

The days passed until the trial and he only saw MacDarrin once again before it. He didn't say much, he was nervous and Sirius was confidant he would be let go. And there was a stillness that marked their end. They would in all probability never see each other again and even thought that was a good thing it still stung.

"Sirius," MacDarrin said as he got up to take his shower. "If I don't see you again. . ." He trailed off and they awkwardly shook hands. And even though it was a small gesture it still meant a lot.

Sirius returned to his cell and sat alone, looking out the window. His head was empty even though he distantly thought it should be filled. He could not bring himself to think at all on the matter of his only friend leaving. It would put him in too bad a mood and so instead he thought of nothing.

After that last time the days passed quickly and quietly. He hoped someone would tell him when MacDarrin was let out because he did not think he could bare to go out to the yard unprepared. Loneliness over took him whenever he thought of it and guilty was ever present in his mind, guilt of being jealous and guilt because he knew a tiny portion of himself silently wished for his friend to stay. Having someone to talk to had kept him sane and given him hope. He was afraid what losing that would do to him.


	14. Chapter 14

Sirius was at a loss when he was told he had a visitor. Even more so when that visitor turned out to be MacDarrin. The man was looking thinner than he had the first time Sirius had met him but he was happy. "I convinced them to let me stop by." He said, looking around Sirius's cell. Sirius sat up. "How'd the trail go?" He asked.

MacDarrin smiled. "Great. I'm being released." He sounded beyond happy and his eyes light up with more joy than Sirius had ever seen in them. "I wanted to stop by and tell you that I'll do my best from he outside for you."

It was Sirius's turn to smile but he did so more cynically than MacDarrin had. "I'd appreciate that." He glanced up at the man in gray who was standing in the doorway watching them. "I really would." He knew his words grated on that wicked man.

MacDarrin nodded. "And I wanted to tell you that I really do believe you're innocent. I really do." He looked at the floor. "Thanks for talking to me when I got here. If you hadn't, I probably would have gone mad by now." He paused. "Thank you"

Sirius grunted. "It's fine." depression was hitting him like a rocket. He felt truly sorry to see his only friend in he whole of Azkaban leave, even if that friend was going to go home and live a better life. And then he felt bad for thinking only of himself. He sighed and tried to smile. "Gee, I guess I should thank you too."

The man in gray cleared his throat and Sirius cast him an annoyed look. MacDarrin stepped forward with an outstretched hand. "Thank you, Sirius Black. At least now you know that once person in the world thinks you're innocent. I have a daughter and she'll know too."

Sirius smiled again. "Thank you." He didn't believe it would make much of a difference but the thought was nice. They finally shook hands and after a moment parted. MacDarrin stopped before laving. "I'll write. I'll tell you what's going on outside. I know how keen you always are on news." And then the door was shut and he was alone again, even more alone than before. He sighed and strared out the window at the ocean or sea or whatever it was.

It only took two days for a letter to come from MacDarrin.

"Dear Sirius, I promised I'd write and I know how important writing can be so I did it as quickly as I could. I don't know if you'd find it very interesting but I'm home now. My wife was beyond words when I told her about you and I hope it makes you happy to know that she now believes in your innocence and so does my daughter. An interesting note, when I was at the ministry to pick up my wand I ran into an uncle of yours. He said his name was Alphard Black and I knew he must have been related to you, your family had a very strong resemblance. Anyway, he was there trying to get your wand. When I spoke to him and told him I was going to write to you, he told me to tell you that he got your wand and it was in safekeeping in his Gringotts vault. I hope that makes you feel better, you seemed very bitter about not knowing what happened to it. He also said to tell you that he's attempting a visit in the near future and you should keep your spirits up, I think that's good advice, especially considering what an awful place you're in. I'll write again when I can so until then, goodbye, Sincerely D. MacDarrin."

Sirius folded up the letter and sighed. He put it with the other two, leaving his mother's on the bottom. He was glad MacDarrn's wife believed him and it was rather funny he'd met his uncle. He sat back and tried to think about why his uncle would even bother retrieving his wand it wasn't like there was any real hope of getting him out and his uncle was certainly not an optimist. He supposed it was a matter of family pride to his uncle, even if his mother refused to recognize him as part of the family.

An hour passed by and he drifted to sleep a hollow sort of sleep, comforted only by the thought that more people knew he was innocent and his uncle still cared.

The next year was a dull and empty one. Sirius felt more alone than he had when he first arrived and it was in that year he received a letter from his uncle telling him his mother had passed.

"Dear Sirius, I am sorry to inform you that your mother and my dear sister has passed. She died two days ago in Grimmuald Place. I suppose she died peacefully. Kreature found her and informed the rest of the family. He was beside himself and he's been left to look after the house until some member of the family moves in. It's rightfully yours now so I don't know what will happen to it, that's up to you. It is a pity though that it will be left empty. Your mother will be buried in the family plot. I know your relationship was strained but I hope in death you can see fit to forgive her, she was your mother after all. Sincerely, Alphard Black."

Sirius folded the letter and lay back on his bed, thinking. He did not know what to feel. He did not feel particularly sad at his mother's passing. More angry really, at his uncle asking him to forgive her. Did her death suddenly make her less of a horrible person? He did not see how dying change who she was. She had been absolutely wretched in life. Horrid to him and to his friends. He would not forgive her, he couldn't and although he wasn't wicked himself enough to be glad for someone's death he came close.

He lay. Feeling bitter. The man in gray had delivered it to him with out expression, not giving him any hint of what the letter contained, though he was sure the man knew what it said, he read all of his mail. He was angry at himself too, for not knowing what to feel and even more for not feeling anything. He sighed and frowned, feeling himself sink again.

He wondered vaguely if he was not in prison would he have gone to his mother's funeral. He doubted it. He had nothing to say to her and if he went, he would have to face the rest of the family and of their disparaging comments and looks. He tried to put it from mind and went to sleep but he had troubled dreams. Dreams of his mother yelling and dreams of the other members of his family as they sided with her. The last and worst years he'd had, living with them and then they always cut off right before he ran away to James's house and he had to start the dreams all over again.


	15. Chapter 15

Sirius awoke stiff and cold. He'd kicked off his thin blanket in his usual distressed sleep. He sighed and wrapped himself up in the blanket again. It was times like these he missed turning into a dog. As a dog he'd had such a great warm coat. Another thing Azkaban had taken from him.

He wondered slightly how good his magic was without a wand. Before Azkaban he'd only been able to do small, simple things. Transfiguration was such hard magic he doubted he could do it but he wanted to try. He got up and stood in the center of his cell. He focused as he had before and slowly felt a change take over him. He grew excited. He looked down at his body and had to check himself to keep from barking. He was ecstatic. He was still able to change into a dog! He walked around the room for a moment, his nails now clicking on the stone floor. He was so happy to be back in his dog form. The he realized just how happy he was. The dementor's effects were lessened. Again he had to stop himself from barking for joy.

The cold too was lessened. He felt better than he had in ages. He padded around the cell, wagging his tail happily and then sniffed. His nose had always been better as a dog. He could smell the sea and something else. Whatever it was, it was dark and evil. He tried not to think about it and put it from his mind. He was so caught up in his joy that he almost didn't notice the door being opened.

He quickly turned back into a man and threw himself down on his bed. A last little bit of immunity lingered on with him before finally ebbing away. His usual bowl was thrown in and he waited for the door to close before getting up and grabbing it. He sat on the bed eating quickly, still filled with excitement.

It would have been nice to have someone to talk to about it. He'd love to share his excitement with MacDarrin if he was still around but he reminded himself that MacDarrin was better off at home. He threw the empty bowl in the corner and paced around as a man.

It would take him a while to calm down. For now he had a sort of immunity to the dementors. He felt as though he had a patronus with him at all times. Even when the day passed without him hearing a single thing from the outside world he remained euphoric. He had a power now to fight back with and nobody knew but him. He curled up on his bed as a dog, tucking his tail over his nose.

Over the next month, Sirius was careful to watch how long he stayed transformed. He had to be careful to make sure no on saw him. He woke up early before his breakfast came and changed back to a man. His dreams were better now, as a dog the dementors had less access to his mind, freeing his dreams from their hold. He felt better during the daylight hours too, better sleep made him feel healthier.

Sirius knew he had gotten older. By 1986 he'd been in Azkaban almost five years. He was never exactly sure just how long but he had a rough idea. Being able to transform had helped him greatly. He was able to think clearer now. The depression caused by the dementors never really went away but now it was manageable. Sometimes he thought the wizard Guards noticed a difference. He sometimes shot off his mouth to them a little too much and sometimes he bounced their insults back with a little too much gusto but they never pursued the cause.

His mind was clearer but it made him more bitter. He had time to actively pursue his thoughts and in them he came to realize just how much he hated the dementors, the wizard staff and even the other inmates. Over the years he noticed just how bad Azkaban had been to people like Rodolphus and Rabastan. He liked to think that he looked better than them and often made disparaging comments in his head of the others. It kept him feeling above them and seeing them as they descend into madness only strengthened his resolve not to become like them.

He frowned as he watched the others. He hadn't received any letters from MacDarrin in a while. He guessed the man was getting back to his life. It depressed him a little but he knew why and he tried to be happy for him.


	16. Chapter 16

For days Remus Lupin had been consumed by disbelief and then by grief and finally by anger but he was past all of those messy emotions now and felt numb. At first he had been unable to accept the idea that James, Lily and Peter were dead but then somewhere around the funeral he had had to accept it. He'd found it hard to believe that Sirius was responsible too, the very idea of a betrayal that big had repulsed him. He couldn't believe he'd been fooled for all those years and he blamed himself. He thought that some how he should have known and he spent weeks trying to squeeze out a memory that might have given some incite into his friend. . .ex-friend's betrayal. But try as he could he might, he could not remember a single time that Sirius had ever shown anything other than loyalty to his friends.

When he had first heard about the deaths, he didn't believe it. He convinced himself that there had been some mistake and again when he was told who was responsible but truth had finally caught up to him and he'd had to accept it all as true, no matter how much he wished it wasn't.

So time passed for Remus and he found himself withdrawing from the world, he didn't really notice it at first but then one day while looking in a mirror he saw just how much he had distanced himself. With his best friends dead and locked up he felt very alone. He was still having trouble finding work, nobody wanted to hire a werewolf. He thought that with Voldemort's fall things might get better for his kind but that hadn't happened. So he spent most of his days alone. When he did keep company, it was with other former Order members, most of them were always kind to him, though he didn't seek charity. He felt rather lost without any of his best friends. A kind of hollow emptiness had filled him. And it sometimes threatened to takeover when he thought about it for too long. He felt as though a piece of himself had been ripped out.

Days passed and he grew restless. He was working odd jobs, not bringing in a lot of money but enough to get by. But a feeling of unease filled him as the days went on. It had been over a year since James and Lily's deaths but he could not keep himself from thinking on them. Something else too was gnawing at him. A feeling of unease, relating to Sirius, one of the people he tried most in the world not to think about. He began to feel that if he did not confirm Sirius's guilt himself he would never be able to rest.

More days passed and he tried to put the thought from mind but it was proving difficult. It came back to him whenever he was alone and ate away at him. Eventually came to the conclusion that he would have to see him. He hated the idea of going to Azkaban but if he didn't he though the idea would kill him. He didn't really know what he would say to Sirius. Would he ask him why? Would he ask him if it was true? Would he ask him when he had switched sides. Could he even ask him anything? He didn't know and all thought of confronting his former friend made his head spin. He reeled at the very idea.

It was in April of 1983 that he sent a letter to the Ministry asking for permission to visit Azkaban. He had to sate his case very well. They were not at all keen on the idea of giving a mass murderer a friendly visit. Maybe they let him go because they did not care what happened to him or maybe they figured he was no threat but whatever the reason he finally got permission and with great trepidation he took the trip to the frigid little island home to Azkaban. He did not know it but he did the same as Sirius when he looked up at the silver lettering that spelled out the words Azkban Prison high above him set into the. His insides twisted uncomfortably. He had not eaten that morning, being too nervous to do so and so he more or less dry heaved. Dementors circled around the horrid tower, they were awful indeed and so was the place they called home. For a moment he found himself bitterly thinking that some of the worst Death Eaters may well deserve being locked away in such a place. He shook his head to clear it when a tall wizard came to meet him.

The man declined shaking his hand and lead the way, not once looking directly into his eyes. He lead the way to a cold, gray office where a man sat behind a big wooden desk, going over paperwork. He looked up. "Ah, Mr. Lupin." He said, fixing his glasses. He dressed all in gray and seemed to project a feeling of being right at home among the dementors and wicked creatures of Azkaban. Remus found himself instantly disliking the man.

They shook hands and the man continued. "I have word that you are here to visit Sirius Black." He said. Remus noticed he jerked the corner of his mouth slightly in distaste when he said Sirius's name. For a moment he felt he was back at school and Sirius had managed to piss off another teacher but the parallel passed from his mind when he remembered that he was not at school and this man was not a teacher and Sirius was not in detention.

"Yes, I am. . . I was a friend from school." He paused. "James and Lily Potter were very dear friends of mine."

The man in gray observed him closely. "What do you hope to gain from this visit? Black has refused to speak to anyone and keeps proclaiming his innocence." Remus felt his heart beat speed up. "Quite a nuisance if you ask me. He causes trouble and I don't know who he thinks he's going to convince."

"He's always been stubborn." Remus whispered.

"Oh, stubborn he is indeed. Well, I have to objection to a monitored visit. Provided of coarse that you leave your want with me. It will be returned to you when you leave."

Remus handed over his wand, always a very difficult feat. He then followed the tall wizard to the door but stopped. "Um, what sort of trouble has he caused?"

The man in gray waved his hand distractedly. "Fighting. . . being rude, he's very poorly mannered." He said it was an air of heavy contempt. "He's been punished."

Remus nodded. "Thank you." He followed the tall wizard out again, a shimmering patronous hugged their legs. It may have been a cat, he couldn't really tell. He was lead up many flights of stairs, proving himself out of shape when by the third set he was out of breath and had to stop. The tall wizard waited impatiently.

When they finally reached Sirius's hall, Remus was almost sure the prisoners would be able to hear his heart beat. These were the worst Death Eaters, he thought. Men and women who had committed violent atrocities. Hard to believe someone he called a friend now shared the same hall as them.

The wizard stopped by a door and pulled back a panel to look in. he stood back, finally looking Remus in the face. "He's asleep." he grunted.

Remus moved forward to look in and was a little shocked. He knew two years in Azkaban could not be kind to anyone but to see Sirius lay asleep, so much thinner than he had ever been in Remus's memory and seeing how his chest rose and fell under the thin blanket that could not have kept him warm, it was almost too much. He felt weak and wanted to turn away but he continued to watch. He felt pity. He wasn't sure why. Sirius would not have liked being pitied and then he remembered he was not supposed to feel sorry for him or care about what he would have and wouldn't have liked. He had to remember that the man asleep in the cell had killed not only twelve innocent muggles but also three of his best friends. He wondered why it was so hard for him to remember that.

He took one last look at the sleeping form of his friend who looked so much that same and yet so different, before he turned away. "It's fine." he said. "You don't need to wake him up." He had seen enough and he could not bring himself to confront him. He caught a glimpse of Sirius's face and say him twitch in his troubled sleep. He turned away. "I'm done here." He said. The tall wizard slid the panel back in place and glowered, angry at having been made to come all the way up those stares for a man who chickened out at the last moment. Remus felt ashamed at what he considered his own weakness.

He stopped by the man in gray's office for his wand. The man looked up interestedly. "Did you speak to him?" He asked, handing Remus his wand back.

"No, he was asleep." He sad, honestly. "I didn't want to wake him."

"How thoughtful of you." It was condescending but it didn't really bother him. "Do you want him to know you were here?"

Remus shook his head. "No. If you would, please don't mention it to him."

"Of course." They shook hands again and Remus took his leave.

Once back, safe in his warm, dry, dementor free home Remus thought over his moment of weakness. It had indeed been weakness that had stopped him from speaking to his old friend. He knew that and he would not lie to himself about it. He tried to think of weather he had sorted anything out and found that he had. He still didn't know Sirius's side of things, maybe he didn't want to know, after all he was a Death Eater, wasn't he? He didn't want to hear the words of a Death Eater, and certainly not ones from someone who had betrayed him so thoroughly and killed his closest friends.

Remus fell into his thoughts and did not sleep that night. In the morning he had convinced himself of Sirius's guilt and put the whole thing from his mind. He never wanted to think of it again because it simply hurt too much to bare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember struggling to write this chapter back in the day. People reading really wanted Remus to visit and I was taking forever to find a way to get him to without being too non-canon and this was what I came up with.


	17. Chapter 17

With the secret of his dog transformation soully his, Sirius found it harder to be nice to people like the Lestrange brother and in general any Death Eater. He also had more trouble controlling what he said, he was much more verbally impulsive. He did however keep himself in check, if only to preserve his freedom.

Even with the discovery of his transformation, things had slowed back down. Sometimes he wished he would go mad, maybe then the sound of the others who had passed on to madness and then those who seemed to be somewhere worse wouldn't bother him as much. But whenever he caught himself thinking things like that he always stopped. Those thought scared him because he knew how easy it would be to let himself slip further down.

By 1987 Sirius was nearing his sixth year of imprisonment. He sometimes tried t find the exact date but most times he just let it slide. It was better not to think about it hand he could only think imagin how happy the man in gray would be if such a blow was ever struck. He never wanted to see the man that happy.

So things went on the same as usual. With his mind clearer, Sirius confined himself to a corner of the yard and a corner of his cell. Sometimes he realized that he was confusing the demntors. They simply could not figure out why sometimes he seemed perfectly sane and then other his mind was reduced to the level of those around him. They never even thought to guess at him being an animagus. Perhaps the idea that someone had managed magic despite all of their precautions was beyond them, whatever the reason, he was grateful for it.

The summer of that year came unusually warm for the north sea. That meant that it was rainier and wetter than just icy and frozen. He did not mind. It was a change and something new to complain about. That year Bellatrix grew worse. She yelled more and more and her voice somehow became shriller also, she managed to come up with new and more colorful insults. He tried to block he out but it was impossible. It was like having bad neighbors. Grim humor kept him up, and creating new scenarios of how to shut her up helped him too. They weren't happy thoughts but sometimes they made him laugh.

It was also in that year the the constant cold weather got the better of him. He'd had little colds ever since he'd arrived, but it was in late September that anything truly terrible happened. He awoke in the night to find himself both freezing and burning at the same time. He knew he was sick and he knew no one in the whole place would give a damn and so he rolled over and went back to sleep. But in the morning he felt no better and to make matters worse he was unable to keep the food they brought him down. He curled up in bed and for once hoped t would not be a yard day. He did not think he could handle going out the horrid cold.

The next day he felt no better but continued to endure. He stayed in bed and shut everything else out. Even being a dog didn't help because he was still sick. As a dog, he curled up and tucked his tail over his nose. It was better that way, he was warmer and with the dementors' powers limited, he was able to fight off the sick more easily. It took several more days for any improvement and when it did occur he felt much thinner.

After his bout with being sick, Sirius did his best not to be so again. He worried what would happen next time is he was not strong enough to fight it off.

Towards December he received another letter from MacDarrin:

"Dear Sirius, I know you won't have them but I'm going to wish you happy holidays anyway. I sent you some candies, I don't know if they'll let you have them but I hope they do. If you get them, please enjoy. I feel bad enjoying Christmas knowing you're still there and I'm really sorry. I hope it's not too terrible. You always talked about how you liked dogs, I didn't really understand when you were talking but I think I have some idea now. I told my daughter and, I hope you find this funny, she named her new puppy after you. Of coarse I told her not to tell anyone he's named after you but now you'll know and I hope that brightens you holidays. Sincerely, D. MacDarrin."

Sirius smiled and folded the letter. He'd made jokes about being a dog several times to MacDarrin, maybe the man had finally figured them out. He looked back at the letter. He almost laughed. A puppy named after him? It certainly did brighten his Christmas. He loved the idea. Whatever MacDarrin's daughter was like she seemed like a very bright and charming young girl.

He put the letter on the floor under his bed with the other letters. He had had several more from his uncle but he much preferred the ones from MacDarrin. His uncles were so stiff and formal. He preferred the ones that made him smile and laugh. He smiled as he though of the charming anecdotes McDarrin included, under normal circumstances he would not have been that interested in anyone's kids but she was a young witch who believed in his innocence and it made him happy. Knowing there were people who had not believed the Daily Prophet or the ministry or anyone else who spread lies about him always cheered him. It was important to remember that such people id exist.


	18. Chapter 18

When 1988 dawned, Sirius stayed up to greet the new year, it was an odd feeling to him. It meant yet another year of his life effectively wasted and yet another year that would go by. His mind drifted to Harry, he'd be about his godson many times over the course of his imprisonment. It always brought a warm feeling to him, despite the pain that he would never see him grow up and would never be part of his life. It was odd to him to think of Harry as getting bigger. In his mind he would always be a baby, there was no avoiding that.

Harry would be turning eight that yea. Sirius wished he could see what sort of boy he had grown into but there was no helping it. It made him bitter to think f it that way and so he steered clear of those thoughts. They hurt just as much as the others and the dementors made it worse. They liked to force those very thoughts into his head. And so he sighed and sat in his cell thinking of life outside his prison. He was always brought down from his highs by the bitter thought that others had life when he didn't.

As usual, just when he was getting to the wickedly good part of self grief he was roused by by the sound of someone banging on his cell door. He looked up angrily. The man in gray stood looking livid. "What do you want?" Sirius asked. He was sure he hadn't done anything to warren a visit from the warded himself. He'd been god.

The man in gray looked around the cell and adjusted his glasses. "Good." He muttered, turning and shutting the door again. Sirius sat perplexed. What had just happened?

Then very suddenly and without warning a magically amplified voice rang out in the hallway. "Attention, all prisoners! This has gone far enough, this act of defiance will not be tolerated. The next person to leave the Dark Mark on their cell wall will be punished severely."

"Ah," Sirius thought. "That explains it." The man in gray was worked up over some petty act of defiance that really didn't harm him in any way. He sank back on his bed, loosing interest in a self righteous speech that had nothing to do with him. He lay back trying to block out the seemingly endless dribble left forth my the man in gray.

He had the strong impulse to yell out for him to shut up but thought better of it. The year had only just begun, he thought it est to give it time before he unleashed hell on himself though God knew he needed a break from the monotony of the place.

There was yelling from outside and he heard the sound of people being taken from their cells. No doubt the walls within were being scoured by magic to remove the vile symbol. Of coarse they would believe him but Sirius was not at all sad to have the mark removed and the others upset. He rather enjoyed their anger,. He rolled onto his side and prepared himself for the shrill screams of his cousin as they were sure o follow soon and then not a moment later her earsplitting curses could be heard, drowning out all of the others.

Again he had that distinct feeling of being ashamed of any relation to her.

He was glad when someone stunned her and put an end to the rampant threats and words. He lay back, relaxing some. They had saved her for last, probably not wanting to deal with her at all.

It was two days later when he received a letter from his uncle. It contained bland and boring Christmas and New Years' greetings and nothing more. He put it to the side, cursing his family's inability to speak openly to one another, though he supposed he didn't need the man in gray reading his letters and gaining information.

It occurred to him early that year just how much h hated that wretched man. He had long since come to the conclusion that his first night, when he had been asked his age, he was being mocked. He piled up little things in his mind, often making a list mentally of all the reasons he hated the vile excuse for a human being. His cold eyes, the way he held himself so high and mighty, they way he seemed so at home amongst the dementors, as though he was one himself. It was revolting. He hated the way the man acted as though he was better than everyone. It reminded him a little of his family. He had no problem acting decent and as though he was a civilized person when the need be but to act as though you were better than everyone else grated on him. He had spent years trying to be himself and not some pompous, cold, stuck up prat, it made him furious to see the man look at him with such disdainful eyes. The way he looked at him as though he were looking at some sort of bug. He hated it.

The list went on in his head for miles and sometimes, when he could not bring himself to be creative, he reverted to just listing the physical characteristics of the man that irked him. The way his hair was clipped to perfection was too much to bare. The way his glasses never fogged, as though his breath wasn't warm enough o cause a fog even on the coldest of days. The way he never had a fire going in his office and the way he seldom had a patronus with him. All of it made him loath the wretched man even more.

It became irritating when the man made random checks on Sirius's cell to make sure he was still thee or still miserable or whatever t was he wanted. He never spoke but he always popped up. What with these random checks, it was harder to keep his dog transformation going for very long. He was scared he wold be caught and the prolonged exposure to the dementors as a human was having it's effects again.

He was afraid the man in gray had figured something out and knew of his transformation. Surely he couldn't but thee was no telling. Maybe the dementors had mentioned something funny about him mind and he was trying to find out what was going on. Sirius didn't know, all he knew was that he was very worried. He feared the worst and his apprehension only grew as days went on and nothing happened.

Finally, losing his temper when the man in gray checked in on him he yelled, "Jeez! Why do you keep doing that? You know damn well I'm not going anywhere. Stop bothering me!" He wished he's had something to throw at the door but alas he had nothing.

The man in gray scowled, or did his best impression. He wasn't very good at facial expressions. Sirius waited for him to say or do something. He'd lmost have liked him to come in and curse him. It would have given him another good reason to hate him. Instead the man in gray laughed. "The dementors must be wrong." He said, quite coldly. "You seem perfectly crazy to me. You must be fitting in so well with the other Death Eater scum here."

Sirius glared at him. "I'm not a Death Eater." He snarled, rather dog like in manner.

The man in gray raised an eyebrow. "When are you going to give that up? You've been here about seven years now, no one thinks you're innocent. You fooled poor MacDarrin, who's situation is regrettable but then he was never that bright to begin with, was he? I heard your friend Peter wasn't the brightest either. Wee you planning to blow apart MacDarrin too?"

Had there not been a metal door and bars between them, Sirius would have lunged ta the man. Walking up to the door he growled. "Peter is a wretched, slimy, scumbag of a human being. If you ever had an ounce of brains you'd know that he's the guilty one and not me and you can shut the hell up about MacDarrin. I'd wager he has ten times the brains you do." He looked right into the man's steely gray eyes and spat. It wasn't very much and it barely hit him but it was enough. The man in gray looked outraged. He unlocked the cell door and marched in, pulling his and out.

"Mr. Black. . ." He said, his voice almost shaking with rage. "You have been uncharacteristically well behaved over the last several years, it's pity this will go on your permanent record."

Sirius pretended to be hurt. "Oh no!" He sneered. "There goes my chance of probation!"

"This, however, will not be going on your permanent record." A blast of blue light his Sirius in his chest and he slammed against the wall, cracking the back of his head rather painfully. He slid to the floor and lay there, his body not responding to his orders. He managed to look up.

"I'm not usually one for such crude gestures as this but. . ." Sirius felt a hand grab his hair and hold his head up before a fist collided with his jaw. He made a grunting, yelling noise and was let go.

The man stood up and rubbed his knuckles. "I can't explain it. Maybe it's your audacious acts or simply your attitude, but I can't stand you." He looked down at Sirius and scowled. "You go around acting as though nothing can hurt you but I want to show you somethings can. I try and teach you your place here but you don't learn. I'm simply beside myself. I don't know what to do to teach you." He shook his head as if he really were upset by it and then called for guards. "Put him in a tower cell for two nights. The hauled Sirius up. "You're luck I don't make that your permanent home."

Sirius pulled himself to his feet to prevent actually be dragged along and before he knew it he found himself in the crushing darkness of the evil tower cell. He folded his arms against the cold, furious and just a little satisfied with himself. He'd finally gotten a rise out of the man.


	19. Chapter 19

Sirius did not sleep after being dumped in the cold tower cell. He had almost forgotten how awful it was but he was far too angry to allow sleep to debate his hate. He sat in the dark, loathing the place and the man who to him was a manifestation of all that was wretched about it.

He was not alone. There were dementors outside his bars, gleefully feeding off of his anger and depression. He rubbed at the rusting metal bars and metal flaked off in his fingers. He narrowed his eyes in the dark and watched the flakes fall from his hands.

True to his words, it was two days before Sirius was let back to his cell. In that time he came to the rather amusing conclusion that if he were only to stop eating he would be thin enough to slip through the bars and escape. It was a grim fantasy but it pleased him none the less. He didn't really believe it was possible but it made him feel better.

After two days he was lead back down to his cell. He was in a surprisingly good mood, he had spent most of the two days as a dog. He knew he was confusing the dementors to madness and it gave him endless pleasure. The man in gray stayed away from him after that. Maybe he was too irritated to be in Sirius's presence. He hoped that was the cause. Whatever the reason, from then on he was left to himself. Not necessarily a bad thing.

A letter came from MacDarrin. Whoever delivered it didn't stop to chat but he wasn't shedding any tears over that. He dived off his bed and ran to get the letter.

"Dear Sirius, I wanted you to know that I've had a wonderful stroke of fortune. I got a job again. It's been so hard, people find out that you've been in Azkaban and no one wants to hire you but two days ago I got a job at the floo network repair system, it's good paying and so I can get m family everything they need again. I really wanted you to know. I hope that there has been at least some improvement in your situation. I heard a rumor that some rights workers are trying to get a library put in at the prison. I sincerely hope the do I think it would make everything a lot less horrible. I'll put my piece in with those workers and do what I can. I really hope we can help. More for you than the Death Eaters, though. Well, I'll write again soon. Sincerely, D. MacDarrin."

Sirius folded the letter and smiled. He was glad for his friend. Things seemed on a definite turn for the better for him. He liked the library idea. He doubted anything could make Azkaban worse and a library would be wonderful he was not abject to reading. He regretted not appreciating books enough before. Remus had always been keen on reading and he had laughed, thinking he had better things to do and that there would be time later for books and reading. He had been wrong and he regretted it to the bottom of his soul.

There had been a lot of things he's thought he'd had time for later. But he couldn't let himself think of those things because it would crush him if he did. Instead he folded the letter and walked to the window. He wondered what the people back home looked like. It had been a few years now since he'd last seen MacDarrin. Maybe he'd gotten older. For that matter he wondered how much older he looked. Sure, he'd seen himself in mirrors occasionally but he couldn't judge himself.

It was an odd feeling, knowing the world was changing but not being part of it. He heard about world events but to him everything stayed the same. Fashion must have changed but to hm everyone still looked and dressed like it was 1981. He knew it was ridiculous to think everything was the same but he had nothing to compare it to and so everything stayed the same.

If he ever got out, he wondered how he would live.

Somehow he knew he would make it. He was sure he would find away.

Rain began falling outside. For once it was not a heavy, cold down poor but a gentle one. It must be summer. He thought. Sticking his arm out through the bars. Had he been in perfect health he would not have been able to get his arm out past his elbow but as it was, he was not and he could. He let some of the rain fall onto his palm and then drew it back and stood resting his elbows on the ledge, the letter still clasped in his other hand. He looked up to the sky and sighed but it wasn't a totally unhappy sigh, it was more of a thoughtful one.

And it was in that thoughtful way he spent most of that week. He tried to think about all that was going on and sort out his own thoughts. It was somewhat therapeutic to think inwardly for once. Before Azkaban he would never have been so contemplative. He had been living too fast and been too busy. He smiled at the thought. He was aware of the uncharacteristicly deepness his thoughts as of late. Maybe this was what Remus had spent time doing, Remus had always seemed so much more grown up. He'd respected that, even if he hadn't always shown it.

Time worse on a thinking grew boring. He'd learned quite quickly that if he spent too long thinking then his thoughts would turn to darkness and it was always bets to cut them short. And so he did so. He walked impatiently around his cell, trying to come up with something new to do. Sometimes he'd get the overwhelming need to do something physical, but even if that something was so trivial as stretching his legs he was denied it.

That was infuriating.

He settled for pacing and thinking back on other things. He went back occasionally and re-read the letters he'd collected and some of the newspapers he'd managed to keep. Anything to keep him busy. He'd drawn a bit more with rocks on the floor. He knew other people did the same but he reckoned they did nasty Death Eater related things.

He found being mean to the others a way to keep him occupied. Even if they never knew the thoughts he had of them, it was always amusing to think up new and horrible things about them. And then, as always, Peter was first and foremost on his mind. Peter never got the same somewhat comical thoughts. Oh no. He would never get something like that because he was too close to home. There was absolutely nothing funny he could come up with. He had often tried to think back to their school days, but try as he might, it was almost impossible to pinpoint a time in which Peter might have turned.

Instead, he found himself disgusted with the way Peter had trailed after him and James. Like an overgrown baby, always needing a sitter. He had always been a bit meaner to Peter but it had always been the sort of mean one might be to a friend, not nice but never decidedly cruel. He wished now that he had been cruel.

He stood again, looking out the window, vision obstructed by the thick fog that hung around the prison. It might have been magical, he didn't know but he wished it wasn't there. He wished he could have seen what was beyond, even if it was just a vast expanse of ocean.


	20. Chapter 20

It was 1991 when Sirius was called before the man in gray in his office. He did not know why and was rather surprised when he saw he was not alone. The Minister for Magic was with him. Sirius looked the minister over, he had been elected the ear before.

"Sit down." The man in gray said, motioning to the wooden chair before his desk. The very chair Sirius had sat in the first night he'd arrived. It was a little painful. The minister stood behind the desk looking him over. "This is the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Minister, this is one of our most infamous inmates, Sirius Black."

Sirius scowled. "I haven't done anything. Why am I hear?" He knew he sounded the same way he had in school but he didn't care.

The minister raised and eyebrow. "You're here because it's time for your parole hearing. You'll have one every ten years."

Sirius was stunned, he had not expected that but it didn't mean he took it seriously. He knew that there was no chance in hell of him being let out after only ten years. Then it struck him. He had been in prison for ten ears already. He tried to count. He was thirty-two. He had to admit, he had lost track of the days. Thirty-two seemed so old, but then sometimes he still thought with the mind of a twenty-two ear old. He looked back at the two men before him.

"Mr. Black, the warden here has been filling me in on your behavior over the last ten years,he feels that you are too much of a threat to be let back into society and I must say I agree. The severity of your crimes are simply too great. It would be a great wrong to let you back out."

Sirius slouched in his seat. He wasn't interested in hearing what he already knew.

"I've told the minister of your disciplinary problems too, he agrees with me that you are much too dangerous." The man in gray said with just the faintest hint of joy in his words.

Sirius frowned. He knew he could have been much much worse. He wondered vaguely if it was personal dislike or if them man really just detested his "crimes" that much. Maybe it was both. The minister was looking at him curiously. He had his eyebrows together.

"I came personally because you are such a well known criminal, Mr Black."

The immediate thought that came to mind was: "Am I supposed to be flattered?" He did not say it though, he thought it best to keep from delivering such comments as they could only make things worse. Instead he nodded, faking appreciation.

The man in gray narrowed his eyes, watching him. Perhaps he had guessed the sort of thoughts that were crossing Sirius's mind.

The minister, Fudge, as he had been introduced was watching him curiously, maybe he was waiting for some sign of heart break to cross his face, but he would never get it.

Sirius looked up, after thinking for a long moment. "Well," It was a little difficult to remain pleasant. "Thank you for at least considering." Perhaps Fudge thought he was crazy and that was why he didn't talk. He stood up. "Is that all?"

"No." It was the man in gray, this time. "The minister was disturbed by your defiance. You're flagrant lack of respect is a very difficult thing to deal with."

"You seem to be dealing with it fine." Sirius said, before he could stop himself.

Fudge looked a little startled.

"You see?" The man in gray said, contemptuously. "He has no respect."

Fudge nodded and Sirius felt like a school boy being chewed out by teacher. "Well, now he's not. . ." Fudge glanced at Sirius and motion towards his head as if Sirius would not know what that meant.

There was a pause in which papers were shuffled and Sirius crossed his arms. He watched them bitterly. He had absolutely no desire to cooperate. He watched the minister shut his briefcase and back away from the desk. He and the man in gray shook hands. And with one last glance at Sirius Fudge left the office.

The man in gray gave him a spiteful look and called for two guards to escort him back to his cell. He went quite gladly, happy to be out of the man's miserable company. He sank down on his bed and tried to think. He was not disappointed. He'd never in a million years believe that they would let him out so easily. He found it a little funny that Fudge thought he was crazy. But then, most of the wizarding world probably did.

The rejection really didn't matter to him at all but he marked it on his wall, just as a reminder. He thought it would serve as a good thing to remember. Oh, he would chalk it all up their stupidity. Stupidity that kept an innocent man locked up and an evil one free.

A few days later he received a letter from his uncle telling him that his Grandfather had died. He wondered why his uncle continued to tell him these things, he must have know they wouldn't matter to Sirius. He supposed it was all part of being in the family. Maybe next visit he'd point out that neither of them were officially "In the family" any more.

With a hint of dark humor he surmised that the numbers of Blacks left must be dwindling. Soon he would be the only one left, provided his uncle did not have some form of immortality, the man was getting old. He felt guilty for that last bit, he did like his uncle.

Things went on and by the end of the month, he realized that his godson was in Hogwarts. He was sure, even if no one told him that Harry was in Gryffindor. There was no doubt about it. He was James son, there was no way he could be anything else. He felt a sense of pride at the notion, thinking of when he had been sorted. He had been scared. More of ending up in Hufflepuff than of anything else.

He had gone up to the stool with the assurance that he would either end up in Slytherin and please his family or Gryffindor and show them all where to stick it. He remembered musing to himself that Ravenclaw might not have been so bad but he doubted he'd end up there. And then he'd been in Grffindor and everything had been alright. He smiled at the thought, he hoped that however Harry was doing, he was enjoying school as much as he had. Well, maybe Harry wouldn't get in as much trouble. But there again came the thought that no son of James could avoid trouble.

He lay back on his bed, smiling to himself. Ah, the sweet shame and disappointment he's brought to his family. He'd relish that for the rest of his life.


	21. Chapter 21

1992 was a fast year for Sirius He'd managed to get back in the Lestrange brothers' ill graces whilst amusing himself with a few jokes of his cousin and their fallen Dark Lord. He made an impressive list of people angry with him in his life but somehow and maybe it was because neither of them were very intelligent, the Lestrange brothers always seemed the easiest to mess with. He began practicing magic without a wand much more intently that year. He'd gotten good, too. His dog transformation had helped him remain sane, or at least a degree of sanity. Sometimes he thought he was close to losing it but he always found something to pull himself back. Practicing magic without a wand helped him focus. And focus helped him stay sane.

It wasn't always enough to keep him occupied and God knew, Sirius was a man who needed to be kept occupied but through magic, he'd found new ways to make life in Azkaban more bearable. Sometimes, if he was feeling up to it, he'd heat his cell just a little. It took a great deal of magical expenditure but it was always worth it and other times he'd do things just to amuse himself.

MacDarrin's library idea had fallen through. He hadn't counted on it though, it had been a fanciful idea. In some ill humor he thought that it might have been hard to find people willing to move the books into Azkaban. It wasn't exactly a hot spot to go visit.

Sometimes he wondered just why people had chosen to work at the prison. He knew they were not there full time, there was no need, what with the dementors and he'd figured out that even the man in gray was not there all the time. Most of the human guards were Aurors and it was only part of routine. The man in Gray however was not. He might have been but he had more of a politician's look about him. And, Sirius suspected that he probably just enjoyed the control he had. He'd never met such a wretched man.

He hadn't thought much of meeting the new Minister. The man seemed rather useless, but then he had little idea of what went on in the wizarding world and it was probably just his personal opinion that branded the man as 'useless'.

Despite himself he'd taken up talking with some of the other inmates. They were Death Eaters in all of his year imprisoned, he had not actually seen or spoken to any of the regular prisoners though he knew they couldn't have had it much better. Most of the other inmates he spoke to were empty, raving Death Eaters but sometimes he could get through their rantings to an actual conversation.

A lot of time was spent by himself, even in the yard, he still elected to be by himself. The days when he'd had MacDarrin's company seemed distant but time was distorted in Azkaban. He had no real consent of it and when he thought of it, it was a little frightening.

It was in that year that he received the rather crushing news that his uncle had died. It had been a painful blow. It meant no more visits and fewer letters. Also, regardless of all his imperfections, he had genuinely liked his uncle. The man in gray had been more than pleased when he delivered the news. He wondered how much of the family was left. He had no way of knowing and somehow, n the back of his mind he was happy that there would be no more Blacks. It was a final show up to his mother. Had she lived to be faced with this realization she would have been devastated. He derived a great amount of satisfaction from that. Still, he would miss his uncle.


	22. Chapter 22

It was in July of the following year that something happened that changed everything. Sirius sat in his cell, thinking to himself, something he did quite a lot of and was completely surprised when his thoughts were interrupted by a noise at his door. He looked up, not needing to move, it wasn't as though he could have opened the door himself. He watched with mild interest as the door was opened.

For a brief moment he thought it was the man in gray come yet again to berate him over some misdemeanor he's committed but he was wrong. It was Cornelius Fudge. It took his minute to remember who the man was but when he placed him, he smiled.

"Evening, Minister." He said, wondering why he'd come to his cell.

Fudge looked rather shocked. "Uh- oh, Good Evening." In truth, the minister had not expected such a friendly greeting, much less such a sane one.

"What calls for the visit?" He asked.

Again, the Minister looked taken-back. "Well, I was making my way around and I wanted to check on. . ." He paused, looking flustered.

Sirius grinned. "Azkaban's most notorious celebrity?" He asked sarcastically.

Fudge made a gulping sound. "Our most guarded prisoners, yes." He was obviously straining under the effects of the dementors.

"I'm flattered."

Fudge scowled, looking a bit like an angry child. "I've gotten reports from the warden but I wanted to see for myself. How had Azkaban been keeping you?"

Sirius smiled at the ridiculousness of the question but refrained from making any sarcastic remarks. "Not as bad as you'd think." He decided to stay pleasant. His eyes found the Minister's paper. "I do miss the crosswords, though." He chuckled a little seeing how his good spirits made the minister uncomfortable.

Fudge shifted his paper. "I'm finished with it, if you'd like." He handed it over and Sirius took it.

"I see you in it a lot."

"I wasn't aware you were allowed the paper." Fudge said rather sternly.

Sirius shrugged. "I'm not."

"Then how do you-?"

He laughed. "There are other ways, you know." From where he lay on the bed he could see just how much his pleasantness was disturbing the minister. The man probably thought he should be a raving lunatic by now. Sirius smiled at the thought and Fudge's eyebrows came together. "Thanks for this. I look forward to reading your exploits." He grinned as the minister's face became long and his eyes grew wide. He fumble with his bowler hat.

He was enjoying the man's discomfort entirely too much.

"Well," Stuttered Fudge. "Well, I should be going. Goodbye." He left in hurry, obviously flustered and no doubt going to the man in gray to ask why Sirius wasn't a lunatic by now. Clearly, the dementors were slacking.

Sirius settled back into his cot with a chuckle. But as soon as he flipped open the front page he stopped. There, in black in white was a happy, smiling family of wizards and witches. He wouldn't have cared at all about them but something made him stop. One of the younger ones, the youngest boy in the picture was smiling and waving at the camera in front of a pyramid but he didn't care about the boy. What he cared about was on the boy's shoulder.

His knuckles turned white clutching the paper. Before his eyes, sitting happily on the boy's shoulder was none other than Peter Pettigrew.

His eyes found Peter's foot. It was small and almost impossible to see in the news print picture but he could make out one toe missing. He was furious. He looked at the little rat in the picture for what he suspected was a good ten minutes before it occurred to him to read the article. He read it over, careful not to miss anything. 'Ministry family wins gold,' He didn't care about that. "Family takes trip to Egypt, visits son.' Didn't care about the either. There it was: 'Five of the children to attend Hogwarts at the start of the coming school year.' He checked the date. July. He looked back at the picture. He couldn't place how old the boy was but he was young, close to his godson's age.

He continued to stare at the picture wishing only to reach through it and grab the rat. Then he ran to the door and yelled. "I have proof!" He yelled. "I have proof! He's alive!"

The dementors outside hovered excitedly bu no one came. He at back on the bed. First chance he got, he'd shove the damn paper in their face. He tried to sit back on the bed bout couldn't stay in one place. He paced around the room.

"This does it!" He said to himself. "He's going to be at Hogwarts." He paced faster, contemplating all of the ways he could get to the school. If only someone other than himself knew about them being animagus. Remus knew but emus believed him to be a killer, Remus wouldn't help him, besides, he liked to imagine Remus had a life now. The last thing the man would want would be to be dragged into a whole mess from the past. He paused in his pacing, thinking about his friend. He didn't really believe Remus had a normal life now, he knew it was impossible but he still liked to think that he did. He began pacing again.

"He's at Hogwarts." He muttered, grabbing the paper and glaring at Peter's rat form. If his anger had ever ebbed over the years, if it had ever lessened even a degree, t was back. He was furious. He was so angry. He wished he could rip the paper but he didn't want to risk anything that could break his mindset. He had to get out and he had to get to Peter. F Peter was at Hogwarts then he would near Harry and he could hurt Harry. He wouldn't tolerate that. Not after the wretched man had done so much damage already. "I'll find you!" He muttered aloud.

Over the days that followed, it became an obsession. He had to find Peter. He had everything he needed but it was just out of reach. He contemplated all possible forms of escape but nothing came to him. He didn't even notice that he paced and muttered as the other prisoners did. He didn't know he spoke in his sleep. Didn't know that the man in gray had been informed of his rantings. Nothing could have broken his thoughts. Nothing. He was fixated and becoming obsessed.

"He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts." He repeated it over and over to himself. Asleep and awake. It was all he could think about. "He's at Hogwarts." He said it to himself even in his dreams which were dark and full of small doors that he couldn't fit through. Doors that slammed shut as soon as he got near them. Doors where Peter fit though and stood laughing on the other side. Doors that he could see James through and that he tried to get to. He'd get close and yell out and James would turn and look at them and then point towards Peter but before he could say anything the door would slam shut and he'd be left in darkness. Then he would here Peter laughing, only it wasn't the nervous, wimpy laughter he'd had as a child, it was the laughter he'd given off right before he'd blown up the street and killed all of those people. The laughter he's issued before he'd turned into a rat and escaped, leaving Sirius to take the blame.

He'd jerk awake at night and sit panicking. Then he'd remind himself that he knew where Peter was and that he would get him. He'd find Peter and make him pay. He'd find Peter and clear his name and then everything would be put right. "He's at Hogwarts." He whispered again. "I know you're at Hogwarts." He said aloud, sitting up in the dark. "I know you're at Hogwarts and I'm going to find you and when I do, I'm going to kill you." He lay back in his bed, fully determined of what he had to do.


	23. Chapter 23

Plan after failed plan formed in Sirius's mind. He was rapidly growing from obsession to something beyond but he took no notice of it. He struggled to keep himself from acting on impulsive plans et he was growing sure that if he did not come up with something soon he would try and that would be the end of him.

The dementors took sudden notice of his new and erratic behavior but he didn't care. Let them wonder. He paced his cell for days, half formed plans mixing in his mind. He muttered to himself frantically. He's at Hogwarts, he's at Hogwarts, He's at Hogwarts.

Not long after he was visited by the man in gray. He was beyond white when he saw he came to Sirius's Cell and for the first time since he'd read the paper, Sirius's mind was diverted from his obsession. He wondered just what could cause the wretched man to turn so white. To look so fearful.

"Black. . ." The man in gray said quietly.

Sirius raised his eyebrows questioningly. "What do you want?" He grunted.

The man in gray stood at the door, not opening it. He frowned compulsively and Sirius briefly wondered if he was capable of any other gesture. "I have heard rumors." The man said, voice still quiet. "The guards say you've been talking in your sleep. They say you've been talking about Hogwarts." His wide eyes turned steely. "I can assure you that you will never see Hogwarts. I don't care what sort of delusions you've cocked up in your mind, you'll never get to the school and you'll never get out of here."

Sirius glared at him. Up to that point he hadn't cared much who heard him but being directly confronted made him angry. He almost wanted to accuse the man of eavesdropping. He strode to the door and gritted his teeth. "I will get out." He promised. "Just you wait and when I do, you'll see you've had the wrong man all along. I hope they sack you."

The man flushed, still looking shaken. "You won't harm that boy."

Sirius paused, confused. "Boy?" He asked, mind working frantically. "What boy?" Certainly Peter was not a boy. "What are you talking about?"

"The Potter boy! You've done his parents in and I'll see hell before I let you harm him too."

Rage flared up. "You stupid fool! I don't want to harm Harry! I want to get my hands on that filthy, treacherous rat Peter! Petegrew! I would never harm my godson!" The very idea filled him with anger. Everything did. The whole misconception, even after all of the years he'd been imprisoned. The idea that He could harm his best friend's son. That he was responsible for James and Lily's deaths. It made him sick and everything was made worse by the worlds incompetence. By it's blatant refusal to see the truth.

The man in gray narrowed his eyes and started to turn. "You already killed him, Black. You can't kill the dead."

"He's not dead!" Sirius called after him. His yelling did him no good, it only started up a volley of yells from the other prisoners, Bellatrix as always, leading the orchestra. She was the conductor, drum major and composer to her own, wretched symphony.

He stomped back to his bed and threw himself down. Time was he would have complained about the nasty little cot and the pathetic excuse for a blanket but he had more pressing matters at hand and even his anger debated, sending him back to mad plans for escape.

He grew restless and angry. Now that he knew, now that he had proof, he had to get out. He was aware that waiting would not change anything. It had been ears, more would not hurt but he knew that he couldn't wait years. He really would go mad then.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he almost told the guards that came to take hm to the yard to take a hike (only in more colorful language). He reluctantly allowed himself to be lead to the yard. They looked uneasy around him. Perhaps they too believed he was planning to hurt his godson. That angered him but there was nothing he could do.

He didn't talk to them and stuck to a secluded corner of the yard, bitter and mumbling. He looked around. Of coarse he had considered all possible forms of escape from the yard but none of them seemed plausible. He sat on a rock and tried to stay warm.

He failed. It was not until two shadows loomed over him, were his thoughts broken. He was not at all pleased to see the Lestranges and a few of their Death Eater buddies. He glared at them. "What do you want?" He asked.

They snickered although he was positive they had nothing to snicker over. They were gaunt and hollow now. Still big men but shrunken. Their skin hung on their bones like ill fitting clothing. Their eyes were sunken and the had lost hair. They looked dead.

Rodolphus snickered again and Sirius saw that his teeth were rotten. He knew his were probably not much better and thought that it was probably best that he hadn't looked in a mirror for a while. If he didn't know what he actually looked like, he could pretend that he was still better looking. "Heard you've been talking in your sleep." He leered. "He's at Hogwarts."

Both brothers laughed. "Who's he?" Rabastan asked.

"Get lost." Sirius said, in no mood to deal with the. A confrontation with them would only lead to another trip to that damned tower cell and maybe a few more days without food and he really could not afford that. But then an idea occurred to him and he stood up. "You heard me, Rodolphs, fuck off."

Rodolphus raised an eyebrow. "Why, Black? We only wanted to talk."

Sirius picked up a rock, threateningly. "I said you away you Death Eater piece of shit." His mind was muddy, he was trying to think of the best way to make Rodolphus angry but it was very difficult. He was too excited with his plan.

Rabastan eyed the rock. "Going to take both of us with a rock?" He asked, sneering.

"I think I can take you, you don't look very tough. Bet you're not much without your precious Dark Lord. So sad he got himself killed."

Rodolphus swung at him. "You shut your filthy blood-traitor mouth!" He cried. Rabastan swung from the other side, catching Sirius in his stomach. He grunted and threw the rock at them. It didn't do much damage but it made them angry. He yelled a few more insults, finally cutting loose and hitting them with everything he had. He had no reason to hold back, this was his chance.

"What the hell is gong on?" A guard yelled, running over with two dementors. "Not a again! Stupify!" A blast of red light hit Rabastan in the small of his back ad he hit the ground face down.

Rodolphus pulled back, holding a bloody nose. "It was Black!" He yelled. "He started it!"

Sirius spat at him and received a jet of red light to the chest.

The next thing he knew, Sirius awoke in the dark tower cell with a splitting head ache. He looked around and squinted in the dark. It was hard to make out much but he tried anyway. He looked around. The usual two dementors were hovering outside the bars and the usual rotting straw surrounded him on the floor. He listened to hear the sound of breathing and came to the conclusion that he was alone. He could not have asked for better conditions.

He put an arm through the bars and tested them. As a man he could never hope to fit through. It would be impossible but as a dog. . . he transformed silently and tried again. His head fit through. He stopped, savoring the small victor before continuing. His shoulders. His middle. Hid back. He stopped again, outside the prison cell. A wonderful feeling of power came over hm. He looked up at the dementors who took no notice of him and continued to hover.

He padded softly to the door and nudged it with his nose. He had no idea how he was going to make I all the was out be he would try. He door was shut. He stretched up on his hind legs and manage to turn the knob. They didn't lock it. He padded his way down the tight staircase and to the first prison hall. It was empty, whoever was supposed to be housed up there was not there and then he realized that it was a hall for those set to receive the dementor's kiss. A sort of 'last mile' hall. He shuddered an hurred on. Down a set of stairs. It was his hall. He didn't even bother to go back to his cell. There was nothing there he wanted. He had the newspaper and that was all that mattered. None of the letters were important, he hadn't read them in months. He hurried on, following the path he'd taken every month since his arrival that lead to the yard. He hurried on past the room where he'd surrendered his clothes, past the room where he'd first met the man in gray. He wondered vaguely if his old clothes were still there or if any of he things he'd had on him at the time remained but didn't stop to check and see.

He could see the main door ahead. It was an almost painful feeling. It felt so unreal and yet he was so joyful, his heart hurt. It was physically hurting from his longing. He walked quickly down the center of the corridor. The longing to cover the distance to the door was over powering. He didn't know if he could take it. If he didn't reach the door soon. . . and he was out. Back out into the chilly, misty air that hung heavy over the whole island. He broke into a run, stopping only to gently squeeze himself through the big black gates with the silver lettering over the top.

He stood outside them for only a minute, taking in his accomplishment. He turned and looked back up at the silver lettering with dislike and pain. They looked so simple sitting up in their frame and yet he knew them to be not. He turned and made his way to the rocky shore. He was not strong enough to apparate without a wand. He looked out across the water. He would have to swim.


	24. Chapter 24

Sirius swam. He swam through the icy waters of the North Sea, pushing on like there was no tomorrow. The water was so cold it hurt and his breathing was painful and pushed. At times he felt as though he would simple freeze and sink to the the bottom. He was numb ans stiff and to make mattes worse he had only a vague idea of where he was supposed to go. Thinking back to his old astronomy class, he got a good idea of where he was by using the stars. He followed as best he could with always the nagging feeling in the back of his mind thanfictat he could be wrong. He had never been that attentive in class. He feared going off coarse and even more of going further from land and drowning.

The first night he was lucky to find a smal rock jutting out of the sea to curled up on and he did so, eternally grateful for it's existence. He drifted to sleep, cold and wet with his tail tucked over his nose.

Somehow he did not feel free. He doubted he really would until he was on land. Maybe then, it would feel real. Maybe when he got far enough away it would be real but for now he still felt as though he wee trapped. He had felt an overwhelming sense of achievement at his first escape but then the haggard hours of running set n and he again felt imprisoned. There was still a chance the would catch him.

The next morning he was awoken by the sharp stab of morning light. He half expected his escape to have been a dream, dreams in Azkaban could sometimes seem so real but it was not. It was as real as anything had ever been and his body felt it. He was soar, stiff and numb. His joints hurt and moving took an unparallelled amount of effort.

With that same effort he launched himself again into the bitterly chilly water and drove himself on. He vaguely wondered how much more difficult it would be for him to swim if he were a man but he didn't stop to find out.

It was near dusk on the second night when he saw a blessed sight. Swimming, hazy in the distance was a dark, blurry sight. And suddenly, with that sight in view none of the cold mattered. It mattered not that the water was bitter or that it stung or even that he was tired and hungry. It only mattered that in the distance he could see land.

With his heart swelling he swam for land. With his mind filled with only one thing he went faster that he could ever remember swimming and with his eyes seeing only the growing mass of land before him, he finally reached the solid earth.

He pulled himself onto the gravely beach and lay down. There was no one in sight and he changed back into a man and lay on the rocks, still and breathing hard. He did not open his eyes, he did not look around. He just enjoyed the fact that he had made it and that Azkaban was behind him.

The peace and serenity of a land free from the demonic grip of the dementors and the gray evil of Azkaban washed over him. He lay still, perfectly content to stay that way for hours. Maybe forever. He was so exhausted.

And he fell asleep that way.

But with dawns light the next day he found the strength to move again and dragging himself up he moved on.

He came to a little village quite quickly and once returned to dog form he went about looking for food. He could play lovable stray very well.

He came across a muggle school where several school boys were engaged in a rough house game of tag and while none of them were looking saw fit to liberate a sandwich or two. He gulped them down before running off again.

With food in his stomach he was sped along his journey. Through all of his swimming he had come to the decision that he would first go and see him godson. He wouldn't speak to him. No, the boy would probably freak. If he knew anything about Sirius h would only know that he was a convicted murderer. He would only know him as the man who betrayed his parents to their deaths. Well, He thought. He would learn the truth soon enough.

Sirius padded on, heading to where he knew Lily's sister had once lived. He hoped she still lived there.

He was determined now more than ever. He would catch Peter and everything could be normal again. Everything would be as it was. Of coarse James and Lily wouldn't be there and neither would many other people he had once know but maybe he could put things right with Remus. Yes, when it was all over, Remus would be the first person he would look up.

It was only a few days after reaching land that he happened across two wizards walking down a country lane together. He knew they were wizards, they had made absolutely no attempt to dress like muggles ane they were talking very loudly about the ministry of magic. One of them was even waving a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"You know, it's all a big mess." One of them was saying. Sirius followed closely behind, pretending to be a stray.

"I'll say. Ministry in an uproar! And why shouldn't they be? The let it happen. First escape ever and it happened under Fudge's watch. He aught to be ashamed."

"I completely agree with you. When I worked in the Ministry this never would have happened. Of coarse they fired the bloke working as warden. He got sacked two days after Black escaped. Some incompetent fool. This'll be hanging over his head for the rest of his life. I say he deserves it, you'd have to be a complete idiot to let this happen."

"You don't even have to do anything! The dementors run the whole show. Still, no one knows how he escaped or where he is now. He could be anywhere."

The first wizard nodded uneasily. "I know. Terribly frightening. A mad man like hm on the lose. I remember when it all happened. I remember reading about his arrest the first time around. Terrible story, just terrible!"

The second wizard grimaced. "Yeas, I do too." He shiver a little. "Nasty old memories."

Sirius padded along, listening intently. He received no small amount of personal satisfaction a pone knowing the man in gray had lost his job.

One of the men turned laughing. "Look, Burt, we seem to have a tag along."He reached down and patted Sirius's head. "Hey boy. Aren't you lucky? I just happen to have a little treat." He reached into his pocket and handed down a chicken wind. He winked. "That was left over from lunch but look like you could use it instead."

Sirius gulped it down and barked.

"Haha, look how happy he is, Burt! Little bit of chicken and he's head over heals! Well, goodbye boy." He patted Sirius's head and the two men disapparated.

Sirius slicked his chops and continued on his way, enjoying the taste of chicken left over. He was thrilled with the news. The bastard man in gray was gone and he could claim responsibility. Suddenly the warm sun seemed all the brighter and all the more cheerful to him. Everything was so pleasant. It filled him with endless glee to think of Fudge losing sleep and hair over him. He hoped he'd put the Ministry in chaos.

It was only a couple days later that he made it to Little Whinging. It was dark already but the street lamps and the lights from houses illuminated the street. From memory he found Lily's sister's house. He had never met her but he'd heard Lily speak of her often enough. Sometimes he had thought that she pretended to dislike her sister more than she did. He looked up at the house. It was the most normal looking place he had ever seen. There was yelling inside and as he looked around the corner of the house he saw one of the strangest sights of his life. A woman, large enough as it was was inflating and rising into the air.

If he hadn't been so stunned he would have laughed. Then there came yelling and a frantic scurrying from inside and more yelling and before he knew it the door to the house was thrown open and a skinny boy came storming out.

Sirius sank back into the shadows and with a rather painful jolt was shocked to see the very image of his dead best friend's face. He watched the boy who he knew was Harry, he could be no one else, lug a large trunk down the street and collapse onto the curb. He watched the boy closely. How he resembled James, it was almost painful. James's death had never seemed all that real to him but now it did. For some reason it finally hit home but he pushed his grief aside and focused on the boy who he now realized was completely lost.

He crept forward and noticed the boy's eyes fix on him. The were wide and green, just like Lily's. The boy looked stunned and a little afraid. He raised his wand, looking wary. Sirius moved slightly and the boy fell backwards, flinging up his arm as he fell.

With a bang and an loud screech a triple-decker bus came out of no where. Sirius was relieved. The Knight Bus would get Harry where he needed to go. Sirius backed into the shadows, taking one last look at his godson before turning tail and heading off again.

He would get to Hogwarts and he would find Peter and maybe then he could meet his godson for real. Watch out Peter, He thought. I'm coming for you.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

Darius MacDarrin was a different man since he'd returned from Azkaban. His little girl and wife never really understood, to them he seemed forever tired but he did his best to love them and to stay happy for his little girl. She was the light of his life and for all his time imprisoned, her smiling little heart had not waned in it's love for him.

He felt much older than he really was and life seemed so strange. Almost unreal, his wife was kind and never forgiving. She was never mad when he sometimes lost himself in memories and she was always gentle and supportive whenever he had a nightmare.

True to his promise he had convinced his wife and daughter of Sirius's innocence. His little girl, Emily had loved his story. She even named her new puppy Sirius, making them all laugh. Of coarse she was too little to understand everything and she could only laugh and smile with a child's ease. The ease of someone not yet exposed to the world's wickedness. He would have loved to keep her that way, to never let her know that there was suffering. To her, his stories of Sirius were rather like a fairy tail. Fanciful and unrealistic but then, to her so was the idea of a place so horrible and he never really told her all of it's horrors. After all, why frighten the child with tales of darkness and woe? She was just a little girl, bright and imaginative.

Right and wrong were black and white to her. She did not understand the larger concepts and what made her even more innocent seeming was that she accepted what she did not understand as simply that, something she did not understand. He loved her for it.

His wife was a beautiful woman. She had aged terribly since his arrest but her warm and gentle grace had not left and coming back to it had been a dream come true. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket and being allowed to rest. She had hugged him with quiet love and accepted any change that had befallen him.

In her own way, she had been emptied out by his arrest, and by the neighbors talking and by the whole world saying her husband was a murderer but she was strong and with her quiet strength she had weathered the pain and taught her child to love and forgive.

Her eternal grace was a blessing to return home to.

MacDarrin was an old man for his young years. He could not help it and his wife was an old woman for her's too. They had passed into that quiet way of living that only the elderly have very early in life. Only their smiling little girl was able to draw them out of it.

One summer morning when MacDarrin sat at the breakfast table, not fully awake and still in his night clothes with a steaming mug of coffee before him and a plate of fresh eggs and sausages his wife had cooked, he propped open the newspaper against the juice pitcher and promptly spat out the contents of his mouth.

There, in headlines and covering most of the front page was none other than Sirius Black. He gripped the paper, not daring to believe what he was reading. Black had escaped.

Curiously, his wife came up and read over his shoulder. She put a hand to her mouth and gripped his shoulder. "Darius!" She whispered.

"I don't believe it!" He said, just as quietly.

Little Emily, well, not so very little anymore came in looking tired. "Dad, what's wrong?" She asked. Her dog, Sirius came at her heels.

"He's out, Emily." He said.

Emily blinked. "Out? Who's out? And of where?"

"Sirius Black. He's escaped."

She came quickly and read over his shoulder. She spent a good amount of time looking at his picture. "I always did wonder what he looked like." She said. "But why are you upset? Isn't it good that he's out?"

Darius shrugged. "I don't know and I don't know why I'm surprised. It strikes me now that if I ever thought there was a man more likely to try and escape it would be him." He looked back at the picture in wonder. "I can't believe he's escaped."

His wife put a gentle hand on the crook of his neck. "I'm sure he'll be fine." She whispered. "I'm happy for him."

Darius nodded and set the paper down, still in shock. "He's crazy."

Emily pored herself some juice. "I'm glad for him. You always said he was innocent so he deserves to be free. It's a good thing, if you ask me." No one had asked her of coarse but no one needed to to here her opinion. "Maybe I'll even meet him one day."

"I hope he doesn't come here." Darius sighed. "Not that I wouldn't help him and not that I don't want to see him but t could ruin things and I could go back to prison." He shuddered at the the thought.

"I'm sure he won't." His wife said, soothingly.

MacDarrin nodded and picked back up the paper to read over the article.

"I bet I know how he did it." He said. Emily looked up. MacDarrin winked down at his dog and her face light up in a smile at the idea. "They sacked the warden. Good riddance, I say. Never met a more despicable man."

His wife nodded. "You've spoken of him. He must have been quite awful."

"He was. As evil as a man can be without actually being evil."

Emily stared at the picture. "It's so odd finally seeing his face. I like how he looks."

That made Darius laugh. "He liked how he looked too. Trust me."

She giggled. "You told me stories."

"All of them true. Maybe you're right, it's good he's out and he's smart. He wont get caught." Darius smiled. His face felt strained from smiling, for he didn't do that much of it but still, he smiled. He was so happy for his friend.

Emily chattered away but he didn't really hear her. His mind was in the past. He was thinking of a charismatic man he'd once know in prison. Darius MacDarrin had three lives. Before Azkaban, Azkaban and then after Azkaban but throughout his three lives, no one had ever influenced him more and he was never so grateful to another man as he was to Sirius Black who was innocent and who had understood and who in the end had escaped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first major multi-chapter fic, thanks to everyone who gave it some new life and read it on Archive! I hope you enjoyed it. By now there's some things I would have changed but it still means a lot to me that people gave the story another shot. I had a lot of fun writing it back in 2012 or whatever it was. Thank you so much for reading!


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